


Our Lady of the Stars

by Regina_Wren



Category: Glee
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Space, Gen, Light Romance, medium level violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-06
Updated: 2013-04-06
Packaged: 2019-10-09 10:08:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 25,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17404934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Regina_Wren/pseuds/Regina_Wren
Summary: Captain Blaine Anderson thought flying a young diva around the galaxy would be a quiet, comfortable, and enjoyable job. He didn't expect the pirates, the ghosts from his past, or the amazing crew he found along the way.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The idea for this story was simply to throw some of my favourite characters in a spaceship together. It ended up being a bit darker than I planned, sorry about that, and if you're looking for romance, while there is some, you'll probably be disappointed. In the end it's still mainly a story of friendships in a very AU setting.

Whitney was beautiful. A DSC-Glee model, all smooth curves with a hint of gold glinting off her surface, the ship was lit up by the station lights so that it gleamed like a blade against a backdrop of inky black space.

Blaine had only piloted a DSC class once, back during training, but now it all came back to him as he stared out at the ship beyond the port window. He smiled as he double checked the confidential details a PA called Tina had sent him on his freescreen. The young diva and rising star, Miss Mercedes Jones, was departing aboard a ship called Whitney at 0800 hours from Port Aria, dock three, bound for Fort Thomas Station.

He was still early, and on this sleepy little space station the closest thing they got to rush hour hadn't even started yet. The Port Aria lounge was just gearing up for the day, shop owners switching on lights and starting up coffee machines, and two sleepy businessmen dozed in the lounge seating, waiting for their ships or their pilots, or both.

Blaine made his way to where a "3" glowed above one doorway. There was no one else waiting in the room beyond, only a security officer in a red and white uniform, filing her nails while she waited behind the scanner counter.

He tugged his suitcase up to the desk and onto the baggage deck.

"Hi." Blaine called on his best smile for politeness.

The security officer looked unimpressed. The name on her breast pocket said "Santana."

"I guess you're the new pilot," Santana drawled.

Blaine didn't let her mood faze him. "I am, yes, Captain Blaine Anderson."

She still didn't return his smile, just thrust a thumb pad at him. It lit up green when Blaine pressed his thumb onto the small screen.

As she checked his papers, Santana reached for the plugin behind her ear. "Security to Control, can I get a clearance for Captain Anderson?"

Blaine couldn't hear the reply of course, since it was transmitted directly into Santana's ear, but she eventually waved him on.

He stepped through the scanners without incident, his suitcase waiting on the other side.

"Thank you," he nodded in acknowledgement as he picked up his bag again, despite the fact that Santana only shrugged in response. Maybe she was still tired at this hour of the morning, he reasoned. It was only 0700 hours. But he saw her eyes follow him as he headed into the docking corridor.

It was quiet here; no noise from behind followed him down the long corridor, and outside there was only space. The docking arm led straight out from the station, and ahead Blaine could see the dark opening of the ship's cargo door. For the first time in weeks, he relaxed properly. He was headed out into space again with a new job. The stillness of space was familiar and welcoming all around him. Despite the fact that he had grown up here, even a small station like Lima grated on his ears and nerves. It was too small, too claustrophobic, too stifling. Growing up, he couldn't have escaped it fast enough.

The cargo door was open, and as he approached, a glamorous young woman stepped off the entrance ramp. He recognized her immediately: her dark skin glowed even in the unflattering station lights, and her smile was just as bright as in any of her publicity shots.

"Captain Anderson, it's nice to meet you in person, considering how much Rachel's told me about you. Welcome to my lady of the stars." She indicated inside the ship door behind her.

Blaine returned her smile. "Miss Jones, thank you. I'm glad to be here."

She laughed. "Please call me Mercedes. Miss Jones makes me feel old. I'll show you to your quarters."

"Thank you."

The cargo bay they entered was small, as usual for passenger ships this size, but it could easily be converted into a second common area. On the far side, a set of stairs led upwards to where Blaine knew the living areas and cockpit were, but Mercedes led him to another door at the base of the stairs.

Everything was small down here, with a narrow corridor stretching off towards the "front" of the ship. An illusion in space, where there was no true back or front, and down was wherever your feet happened to be, but like most people, even pilots thought of the cockpit as the front, and the cargo bay as the rear, and sometimes it was necessary for giving instructions to passengers and crew. "Go replace the aft screen," was still easier to say than, "Go replace the screen on the outer wall of the cargo bay."

Now, as Blaine followed Mercedes to the front of the ship, he wondered about the rest of her crew and what it would be like working here. He had enjoyed working for Rachel for the past few years, and he got along well enough with her crew, but with her new husband now taking over as pilot, it was time to move on. Blaine was only grateful that Rachel's old friend, Mercedes Jones, had agreed to employ him on this probationary trip. Whether this would turn into a permanent job remained to be seen, but Blaine certainly hoped it would.

Three doors on each side lined the corridor they were in, with one dark room that lay at the end of the hall. Blaine knew it to be the engine room, right underneath the cockpit. In it, only a few small green safety lights glowed now, but in an hour or so it would have the whole ship humming.

"I know it's a strange situation, and all," Mercedes said as they walked, "but thank you for agreeing to this pilot-swap. I haven't talked to Rachel much since high school, but after she stole and married my pilot she owed me one." Despite the words there was no malice in Mercedes' tone, only good humor.

"Hey, I'm happy to have a job, no matter who I'm working for. And Rachel spoke very highly of you. She said she appreciated you offering her so much competition in high school. Although she still thinks she was the better singer."

Mercedes grinned. "Okay, now I need to have a word with the girl just for that. I'm sorry for the whole confidentiality thing, because it hasn't been made public yet, but I've just signed a contract for a company based on Los Angeles Station. They're going to beam my music to all the big stations around the galaxy."

"Congratulations. That's amazing!" Blaine had no doubt she would be a success. She might only be topping the charts on Lima right now, but Los Angeles was in a completely different league.

"Thanks. It's still sinking in. I'm flying to Los Angeles in two weeks for a promotional tour, but the reason I'm going to Fort Thomas Station today is because my boyfriend is working there. It's perfect for your probation, and this is probably the last time I'll get to go anywhere as just another face before my music spreads off Lima, so I didn't want the press to hear about it. It's not that Sam and I are trying to keep us a big secret, we just want privacy for a little while longer, you know?" She looked so young all of a sudden, and it struck Blaine that she was not much older than him, just a young woman becoming a star. A young woman who just wanted to spend a little time with the boy she liked.

Blaine warmed to her immediately. There was something very genuine about Mercedes Jones, her friendliness, her warmth. The new found fame hadn't gone to her head at all, and Blaine could see himself being very happy working for her. "I'm very happy to fly you."

They reached the last door before the engine room. "Well, Captain, this is you."

Blaine turned to look at the quarters that would be his. They were tiny of course, and as bare as any he was used to, but Blaine didn't need much. He could see a closet, a tiny desk, a bed, and en suite beyond.

"Thank you," he said to Mercedes.

"I'll go wait for the rest of the crew to show up. I'm looking forward to flying with you."

Blaine ducked a small bow. "And I'm looking forward to working for you."

Mercedes laughed. "Oh, go on, Captain Charming. I'll be outside, when you're settled."

But he did mean every word, and as he watched Mercedes retreat Blaine's spirits soared. He didn't know much about Rachel's friends, but Mercedes at least seemed nice. He was looking forward to this job already. 

Once he was alone the first thing he did was configure his plugin to connect him to Whitney's onboard network. As he scrolled through the frequencies on the dial behind his ear, he looked around his quarters.

The white walls all around were blank, interrupted only by a fixedscreen on the outer wall that showed the outside of Port Aria, with a dozen docking arms reaching out into space like long fingers. Some had ships attached. Most were dark and empty, especially at this hour. Everything was quiet around him right now but soon the sound of engines would be his constant companion again. Engines were always louder in these small ships, less space to dampen the sound, and it would no doubt take some getting used to again, but he was looking forward to that too. He couldn't wait to be in space again and off this station.

Finally there was a crackle in his ear where he locked into Whitney's system. He heard the connecting beep where his plugin was logged into the computer system.

" _Please state your name_ ," a woman's voice greeted him.

"Captain Blaine Anderson," he said out loud so that the implant in his jaw would transmit the words back.

There was a short pause, almost like she was thinking, before the woman was back. " _Welcome aboard Mercedes' Ladyship. Lord Tubbington says 'hello'_."

Blaine blinked into the air. "What?"

"I take it you just got Brittany's message."

Blaine turned to see a man standing in his doorway. He was dressed in blue overalls that really should have looked awful but somehow managed to bring out the bluest eyes Blaine had ever seen. The designer scarf helped. Over the breast pocket the name "Kurt" had been stitched in glittering purple thread.

"Brittany's our computer expert," Kurt continued. "She's named the ship's computer Lord Tubbington for reasons no one has yet figured out. Nice to meet you, Captain Anderson."

"Nice to meet you, Kurt." When he stretched out his hand, Kurt shook it in a firm grip. 

"You know my name?"

"It's on your..." Blaine pointed to the stitching and Kurt went red.

"On my overalls, of course," his eyes crinkled when he laughed.

Blaine could just make out pale freckles on Kurt's skin, just below his eyes. His face was round and youthful, his nose straight and perfect, and his lips were very, very pink. Blaine only realized he'd been staring when Kurt cleared his throat.

"I think everyone's here, if you want to come meet the crew?" Kurt's voice lifted on the end like a question, and Blaine found himself nodding.

"Okay."

Except that Kurt was still standing in the middle of his doorway.

"Um, lead the way?"

Kurt made an odd little curtsying motion out of the doorway. "Aye, Captain."

Blaine smiled. It wasn't terribly professional, especially considering this was his probationary trip, but he was only twenty-four, and the prospect of at least one cute guy on board put a bounce in his step.

He followed Kurt back out to the cargo bay where it had gotten very busy in the short time he'd been in his quarters. They almost ran into Santana and another woman hauling a handcart full of boxes across the floor.

"Watch it! Med supplies!" Santana snapped at Blaine. Clearly her disposition hadn't improved.

"Santana!" Kurt snapped back. "That's our captain."

"I don't care who he is if he's in our way," she shot back over her shoulder.

Kurt opened his mouth, likely to snipe back, but the women were already disappearing up the stairs with boxes under their arms. "I'm sorry about Santana," he said to Blaine instead.

"Don't worry about it. As long as she follows orders once we're in flight."

Kurt only looked slightly mollified.

"Believe me," Blaine went on, "I've worked with far worse than foul tempered security staff. This job is already a dream compared to the first one I had out of the academy."

"Why? What happened on that one?"

Blaine took a breath. "Too much staff harassment and bullying. It wasn't a very pleasant place to work."

Kurt relaxed again as they made their way across the floor. "Well, at least you're already doing better here than my brother did; he always let Santana get to him. He was our captain before you."

"Rachel's husband? He's your brother?"

"Yeah. Honestly I didn't think Mercedes would find a new pilot on this short notice, so I'm glad Rachel sent you our way. Aren't all the pilots being called up to help stamp out the pirates around the outer reaches?"

"I'm not military trained. I'm just a civilian," Blaine explained.

Mercedes stood at the cargo door again, tapping off something on her freescreen. Three large steel containers on handcarts stood in front of her.

"Are those part of our cargo?" Blaine asked, falling automatically into responsible mode even as he did. He walked around them to find their ID tags.

"Kitchen, my wardrobe, spare parts, tools, and miscellaneous supplies," Mercedes explained. "Kurt, have you seen Brittany?"

Kurt shook his head.

"Damn, where is that girl? I even told her seven thirty. I hope she hasn't gotten on the wrong ship again."

Just as Mercedes had said, the tags on each container identified the contents for DSC-Glee "Whitney," and Blaine swiped his thumb over each tag, signing off on them.

"Okay, let's get these loaded."

Kurt helped him push each of the heavy containers up the ramp and into the cargo bay. Mercedes marked off their list as they went.

They were finishing off with the last handcart when Blaine looked up to see a blond woman strolling up the docking corridor towards them. At the same time the plugin behind his ear came to life and the voice of Control transmitted into his skull.

" _Come in, Captain Anderson._ "

"Anderson here," Blaine replied.

"Brittany!" Mercedes exclaimed. "Where have you been, girl?"

"I got lost in the docking arm," Brittany explained. "The floor confused me." She was carrying a small pink suitcase and trailing a long cable from her plugin, or maybe it was some kind of earring, Blaine couldn't decide, but then Control distracted him again.

"You're cleared for departure."

" _Thank you. We're closing up now._ "

Mercedes wrapped an arm around their missing crew member, guiding her on board, but when she spoke she was addressing Blaine. "Was that Control?"

"Yeah, we're clear to go."

Mercedes smiled and reached for the door button. "Then let's get this show going."

*

 

It turned out that Brittany's cable was connected to her plugin after all.

"I used it to tie up my hair and forgot to unplug it," she explained as she sat down at her computer board, calm as anything, like that happened to her all the time.

"Okay," Blaine nodded. As long as she knew what she was doing with the onboard system, she could tie up her hair with whatever she wanted, he reasoned.

Instead, he gazed around the cockpit, taking in its familiar layout. A large central screen showed the view from the bow, and smaller screens showed aft and other views, details of the ship and reminder warnings. He trailed his fingers over the controls, sleek, metallic dials and switches for manual control, indicator lights glowing lazy green. He hadn't exaggerated to Mercedes. The DSCs were a beautiful design.

"I know what you mean," Brittany said out of nowhere.

"Sorry?"

"The first time I saw Whitney I thought she was pretty sexy too."

Blaine had to laugh. He understood that sentiment.

"All right," he took a seat in the pilot's chair. "Are we online?"

"All set," Brittany replied.

His gauges and stats all showed normal and ready. "And everyone else?"

"All logged in."

Blaine started up the systems - air, heat, and gravity - taking the ship out of Lima Station's circuit, and the engines purred to life as Whitney took over.

Then he reached up to tune into the ship's network again on his plugin. "Good morning everybody. I'm Captain Anderson. Can I please get a comm. call?"

"Those are really tasty, by the way," Brittany said, her voice beside him and in his ear at the same time. "Brittany S. Pierce, computers and communications. _Finglack balat._ "

Blaine glanced at her sideways, but didn't say anything. No one else did either as they continued to pipe in.

_"Kurt Hummel. Engine room is good to go."_

_"Mercedes Jones, diva extraordinaire, ready to rock."_

_"Tina Cohen-Chang, PA, medical officer, and just as a reminder, highlights don't count as a medical emergency."_

_"It was one time, Tina!"_

Blaine smiled at Kurt's offended tone.

_"Santana Lopez, security officer. Can we get this show off the ground already?"_

Blaine typed the coordinates of Fort Thomas Station as they all called in and let the computer do its work. "All right, everybody, find something to hold on to for a few minutes while we detach and fold into U-Space." He switched frequencies, shutting out everyone on board. "Lima Station Control, this is Captain Anderson of the DSC-Glee 'Whitney', ready for detachment."

_"Copy that, Captain Anderson. Stand by."_

While he waited for their detachment, Blaine ran a final check on his readings. Everything looked good. The system showed him the route to Fort Thomas Station mapped out with an estimated time of twenty-four hours in U-Space. He started running the calculations along with the computer, taking into account the ship's exact size and shape along that route. He could have let the computer do it on its own but he liked to stay on top of things. It was better than to end up in a real emergency with no computer to rely on and only long-forgotten math to guide him.

The aft screen displayed the docking and boarding arm, seal still tight, but the countdown finally showed up. It was quiet in the cockpit and on the comm. networks as the numbers ticked down; only the hum of the engines provided soft background noise.

Three...

Two...

One...

Zero.

The ship jolted as the seals released and they were drifting free. Blaine watched the dock retreat slowly on his screen. Without propulsion in space, it was slow going until they were finally five lengths distance from the end of the arm, and Blaine used the time to finish his calculations. Finally his plugin pinged to life again.

_"Captain Anderson, you are free to fold into U-Space."_

"Thank you, Control."

_"Have a good trip."_

"Will do. See you in a few days."

His U-Drive ticked patiently as Blaine put in his calculations. They should bring the ship out of U-Space close to Fort Thomas Station, just a short hop out. With a final glance over his data, he set the countdown.

He knew the computer calculations were right, but far too many people had made simple mistakes in their math when they had no computer or no co-ordinates to rely on, and ended up coming out of U-Space in the center of a star, or losing half their ship during the fold, so it paid to double and triple check everything. Things were simple enough with a computer and Control to guide him, but flying through space was risky at the best of times, and it took real skill to fly without one of the two. In U-Space too much could go wrong. It only took one idiot deciding to ditch garbage out the airlock while in U-Space to compromise the bounds of the ship and scatter the whole craft across several light years. U-Space supposedly stood for Ultra Space, but Blaine always thought of the shape it folded space into to jump across the vast distances of the universe.

The countdown ran down.

There was no lurch when the ship folded into U-Space. The engines whined and screens blurred, although some people felt a vague nausea at the shift in space, but Blaine never felt anything. Moments later his screens were covered only by the rainbow play of light in U-Space. 

They were on their way.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we are now en route to Fort Thomas Station, and we'll arrive in about twenty-four hours."

"Thanks, Captain," two voices chorused back at him. Mercedes and Tina, he thought.

Blaine turned off his network connection and turned to face Brittany, who was staring intently at her screen as if she could read the sequence of grammatical symbols scrolling past.

"You okay up here? I'm going to go sort out the cargo downstairs."

"I'm fine," Brittany said. "But I think Lord Tubbington wants to take up smoking."

Blaine wasn't sure how a computer system could smoke or consider smoking or what Brittany was reading, but he said the first thing that came to mind. "Well, tell him his captain is against it."

Brittany beamed at him. "Thanks! I will."

Blaine tried not to worry about her as he headed back down to the cargo bay.

*

 

On the fixedscreen in front of him, numbers scrolled by: co-ordinates, distance, data. The captain took them all in with a glance. He wasn't exactly running low on supplies, but he was certainly getting bored of this constant floating in nothingness with only the stars and a band of cutthroats for company. And there was only one way to fixing that.

Behind him, he heard the door open. In his screen he could see the reflection of the man stopping just inside the doors.

"Did you get my co-ordinates?"

"Yes, Sir," Big Jim replied in the reflection. "We're on course now. Can I ask, why this station?"

"Why not?"

Big Jim shrugged. "Just wondering, is all."

The captain slouched back in his seat. "Do you know how big space is?"

Big Jim blinked. "In exact measurements?"

The captain pretended he hadn't spoken. "We could spend months, years, probably forever, out here in the middle of nowhere without ever seeing another living thing." The thought filled him with a mixture of vertigo and intrigue: all that vast emptiness without a single living thing within unimaginable distances. The contemplation was awe-inspiring. How fragile they all were in this tiny ship on the edge of that endlessness, with only fragile human technology between them and nothing.

"That's why those Stationbound have such a hard time finding us," Big Jim grinned, showing off his crooked teeth.

The captain turned to face his crewman to drive his point home. "All that space, with us completely insignificant little life forms. One day we'll all die out here, and no one might even notice we're gone."

Big Jim nodded, but he still looked confused.

"You know what this universe is like, Jim. Big fat sharks at the top of the food chain, and everyone else scurries around them. Right now they don't even realize we exist, but they're going to."

"So this station...?"

"Is big enough to get us the attention we want. This time we're going to make sure someone remembers us. The galaxy respected my father, but that will pale in comparison to my name."

Big Jim's answering grin was feral enough that it would have made a lesser man recoil. "Yes, Captain Smythe!"

*

 

It took Blaine, Santana, and Tina several hours to deal with the cargo. Everything had to be stocked away for the journey, with med bay and kitchen supplies taking the longest.

Santana worked silently, but Tina chatted happily as they sorted and stocked supplies in the commons and kitchen area. She was friendly and cheerful, and she didn't let Santana get away with any shortcuts when it came to putting away her medical equipment properly.

"My husband, Mike, is a doctor," Tina explained as they worked in the kitchen together. "He was training when we met, and it's because of him I got my nursing certificate. It was just fascinating hearing all his stories and I wanted to get involved. And then once I got to start injecting people with things, I just couldn't go back." 

Tina laughed when Blaine stopped to stare at her.

"It was fun! And it's like, I get to help, make people feel better, and there's nothing better than watching someone walk out the door free of pain, and knowing I helped with that, you know? Besides, doing my nursing certificate means I get to be an even bigger help to Mercedes as not just her PA, running around in the background, but actually working as her onboard medical officer. It's just nice to feel necessary."

Blaine glanced over at all the supplies they'd unpacked: food on the kitchen counter, med supplies on the dining table, ready to be carted away when Tina returned to her med bay, and engineering parts stacked by the door. He was just wondering how awkward it would be if he volunteered to run the new spare parts down to the engine room himself, when Kurt wandered through the door.

"Ooh, are to the conductor rods I asked for?"

Blaine set down the heavy metal rod he was toying with. "Conductor rods, filters, a couple of smaller parts, and the oil's still in the cargo bay."

"Oh, excellent!" Kurt clapped his hands. "Remind me to take them down with me after lunch."

"Yes," Tina said, "I should get these things put away. Can you finish up without me?"

"Sure. We're almost done here, just a few things left to pack away," Blaine emphasized the point by hefting a bag of flour off the kitchen bench.

Tina smiled at him and collected her supplies by piling them into her arms.

Kurt took the flour off Blaine. "I'll take that. None of you ever organize my kitchen properly, and if you want to be fed any time today you'll let me deal with the kitchen stuff."

Across the room Santana raised an eyebrow. "Kurt, that's our captain," she parroted back, voice dripping with scorn.

Kurt ignored her, chin lifted in defiance, and turned to rummage through the cupboards beside him. He made for a very elegant profile.

"Need any help?" Blaine offered.

"I do," Santana put in before Kurt could answer. "Some help with this ammunition." She waved a battery pack in the air.

Even though that wasn't what Blaine had had in mind, the responsible part of him couldn't refuse. "Sure, Santana." Still, he couldn't help but glance at Kurt, unwilling to leave him hanging.

"Go on," Kurt waved him off. "I work better without you lot all underfoot." But he was smiling as he said it, taking the edge off his words.

Blaine loaded up on arms and ammunition instead. Weapons always made him a little uncomfortable, but he knew it was better to be safe rather than sorry. He had a license and he knew how to use them; he just hoped he never had to.

Santana led the way to the hallway locker outside the cockpit. Loaded up just as heavily as he was, each of her steps had a firm and decisive ring on the floor. Her ponytail swung sharply when she stopped in front of the locker and turned to spin the combination into the door.

"A word of advice, Captain?" she asked.

Blaine wondered if he should be worried. "Yes?"

The door clicked open and Santana started loading her arsenal inside. "Look, I know Kurt's got those Bambi eyes going, and he's as flexible as a gymnast, and I know space can be fuckass lonely..."

Blaine tried not to think too deeply about the mental images she was conjuring.

"... but if you're going to mix business with pleasure you better make damn sure it's worth it, because if it all goes down in flames there's nowhere to run on a spaceship. I speak from experience." For the first time there was something like a deeper pain in her voice, but she just kept loading weapons, avoiding his eye.

"Honestly, Santana, I hadn't even thought that far," Blaine said. "We've been on board for less than six hours, and it's really not high on my priorities list right now."

"But it will be eventually, cause you two are about as subtle as a freighter." Santana spun two guns in her hands before hooking them tight in the locker. Then she started on the things Blaine was holding. "All I'm sayin' is think about it. 'Cause, hell, Kurt will probably jump at the first sign of interest, but if you just let things get away with you, with the both of you, and then crash and burn, it's gonna get real awkward real quick around here."

And that was something that really should have crossed his mind, Blaine acknowledged, and maybe it would have occurred to him eventually, maybe after he got an indication from Kurt that the interest was mutual, but by then it might have been too late. Blaine didn't really have any intentions on acting on that interest. It was only his first flight with this crew, after all, he was still on probation, and he certainly wasn't going to jeopardize his job with anything complicated. And the "simple" option could get ugly and complicated just as quickly, and that really wasn't what he was looking for anyway.

But there was no denying the interest was there, and while he didn't want to rush into anything, he also wanted to get to know Kurt better. At least they could try to be friends. Anything more than that was really not something he was considering right now.

Santana finished stocking his load and slammed the locker. The echo reverberated along the whole hallway. She started walking away, not even waiting for a response, until he spoke up again.

"Listen, Santana, even though I think it's inappropriate of you to bring up my personal life, you're right, I don't want to complicate things. And yes, I think Kurt's attractive, but right now I just want to do my job, hopefully keep it, and if I'm lucky I might be able to get to know Kurt a little better along the way. I'm not in any hurry for any more than that."

Santana regarded him silently for a moment with her sharp eyes and Blaine wasn't sure why he was holding his breath.

Then she flicked her head, sending her ponytail flying. "Well, as long as I'm being _inappropriate_ , just so's you know, you mess Kurt up, I mess you up. And I won't need any of the weapons in that locker either."

She walked away, and Blaine found himself smiling. He really should be reprimanding her, but he suspected she was just protecting her crew in her own slightly aggressive way, and he couldn't think badly of her for that.

*

 

Sam had eaten a late lunch at Melody Port mall, in a dim diner, with a fixedscreen in the corner. It was set on a news channel and Sam watched as he ate, while various politicians rambled on about the threat of piracy again. He cheered himself up by reminding himself that this time tomorrow he would be with Mercedes. She was going to arrive early, so naturally he was working late tonight. His boss was supremely unsympathetic to happy young relationships, given she had just been divorced from her wife and thought everyone else should be throwing themselves into work as much as she was.

The meal was dry and tasteless, and Sam only watched the news because there was nothing else on at this hour. The diner was quiet, staff already preparing to close for the day, wiping down tables and putting away everything for the next day.

Sam had heard the stories, of course. It was hard not to when he worked out here on the outer reaches. But at the same time, there were more ships that got hit by stray asteroids while going through U-Space, so it was hard to worry too much about pirates. And every once in a while some conman claimed to have lost his cargo to pirates just to collect on the insurance. Sure, the United Galactic Federation had a couple of bills before the council, but that wasn't anything new either.

So when Sam went back to work, his mind was full of anticipation at getting to see Mercedes again, and on just trying to get the rest of his work done so he could get home. There were still too many containers to collect and to distribute, and ships to resupply.

Three hours later, far later than he should have been working, he was in the middle of pushing a heavily loaded handcart towards yet another docking arm, when the whole station shook around him.

Thunder rolled through the floor, and everything rocked sideways. The woman next to him went sprawling, and somewhere glass shattered. Sam's cart was jolted out of his grip as the floor heaved, and he stumbled back against a wall, breath whooshing out of his lungs as his back connected.

An alarm blared, one he'd only heard in drills before: immediate danger.

Sam didn't even have the chance to find his footing before the floor lurched again with new thunder. The force of it threw him to the ground. He had just enough time to wonder how space stations got earthquakes before his loaded cart came barreling back towards him again.

The last thing he saw was the heavy steel container flying at him.

*

 

Everyone came together for their meals. Kurt served up lunch and dinner in the commons, on the long central table. Even Brittany tore herself away from Lord Tubbington long enough to join them, this time without a cable trailing from her ear.

Mercedes was virtually bubbling over with excitement about her upcoming tour and seeing Sam again.

"It's all thanks to him I got picked up by the company on Los Angeles in the first place," she told them over dinner. "He's the one who convinced me to upload a video to the ether net. It's just crazy. Who looks for small station girls from the outer reaches to sign to their company?"

"It's not that crazy," Kurt pointed out. "I mean, if Rachel Berry can make it, you can too."

Mercedes smiled. "I know. But it's like... it's all finally happening. Don't get me wrong, I can't wait to get to Los Angeles and take the universe by storm, but I'm still pinching myself every morning."

"It's true," Tina added, "I've seen the bruises."

Mercedes laughed. "I'm still adjusting to the madness."

"Well, you know we're all happy for you," Kurt said.

Around the table there was nothing but nods and smiles. Even Santana smiled.

"Thanks," Mercedes said. "I'm glad I have you guys to keep me grounded. Except for you," she pointed at Blaine, "you're my pilot to keep me from being grounded."

Blaine inclined his head. "Of course."

"I just feel like the luckiest person in the universe right now," Mercedes said. "Like everything is just going right for me."

On board Whitney were easily the most enjoyable mealtimes Blaine had shared in a long, long time. These were people he could easily spend years working with. As far as first days at a new job went, it was close to ideal. Everything had gone to plan and he was looking forward to getting to know his new crew better. He was already looking forward to working with them in the future. Tomorrow morning they would arrive at Fort Thomas Station and he would probably see them intermittently for the rest of the week, but if Mercedes decided to keep him on as her pilot there was the whole of her promotional tour on Los Angeles Station coming up. They might all be well be truly sick of each other when they were done with that. 

Blaine couldn't wait to find out.

*

 

The commons was deserted when Blaine passed through it much later that night. Only one small light still glowed in the corner, where Mercedes sat alone in the otherwise dark space. The glow came from a freescreen in front of her, but she wasn't looking at it. Her head was back against the seat, her eyes focused on the large fixedscreen on the wall beside her. Like the screens in the cockpit, this one showed not the stars, but only their light, bent and splayed in shifting hues, like rainbows in space. She looked like she was lost somewhere far away, or long ago, in a time before human beings had deserted the Earth, before they had scattered among the stars and built space stations across the galaxy.

He hesitated to interrupt her, but her face was weirdly sad, and he couldn't just walk away from that.

"Everything all right?"

Mercedes sighed. "Just trying to write a new song."

"You looked sad."

The smile she gave him was tired and wry. "Do you ever think about being stranded in space, lost in the middle of nowhere, how long it would take for someone to find you?"

A shiver crept down Blaine's back. "I try not to."

"Sometimes I think we're all lost in our own skies, just drifting through life alone, and every now and then we bump into a star, and if we're real lucky, sparks fly."

Blaine wondered if she was putting that into her lyrics.

"I don't know. Maybe I'm just missing Sam," she said turning to glance back down at the freescreen on her lap.

"You'll see him tomorrow," Blaine told her.

Mercedes typed something onto the screen and a small smile tugged at her lips. "Yeah. Or maybe I just need some sleep."

They both laughed at that.

"Not if it brings out the poet in you," Blaine said. "Whatever you're writing, it sounds like it's going to be an amazing song."

"You're sweet," Mercedes held out a hand for Blaine to take, and when he did she gave his fingers a squeeze. "I'm glad you decided to fly me to him."

Blaine's heart warmed and expanded in his chest. "So am I."

She smiled now, wide and bright, the way she usually did. "Goodnight, Captain."

He squeezed her hand back before letting go again. "Goodnight, Mercedes."

He left her sitting in the light of her songwriting, with her thoughts and longing, and headed down to the lower floor.

The ship was quiet as he walked, everyone else apparently already retired for the night, and the computer had automatically dimmed all the main lights. Only the smaller lights remained on all night, and now the only company Blaine had was the sound of his own footsteps and the constant hum of the engine, steady and peaceful.

It was cooler on the lower deck, and Blaine's thoughts were already on his own bed, when the room at the end of the corridor caught his attention. Light spilled out of the engine room, gold and welcoming, and even if he hadn't known about the man inside the room he would have been drawn to it like a moth.

He found Kurt sitting on the ground, a floor panel open in front of him, cleaning something Blaine couldn't see. The light came from underneath him, shining up through the grating that made up the floor panels of the engine room, and it bathed the whole room in that warm glow.

"Not ready to sleep yet?"

Kurt jumped and his head shot up, wide eyed.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."

But Kurt was already relaxing. "No, it's fine. What time is it?"

Blaine hadn't checked since 2300 hours. "Late," he said.

Kurt laughed and turned over whatever he was cleaning, a tattered rag covering most of the object in his hands.

"Mind some company?"

"Not at all." Kurt indicated the open expanse of floor with oil-stained fingers. "Make yourself comfortable. I'm only sorry that the engine room builders don't believe in proper seating."

When Blaine stepped into the room and caught sight of what lay beneath, he was awestruck all over again. Bright little cogs and paper-thin wheels spun below him, like delicate clockwork. Hundreds of pieces moving together under the grate, glinting with light. It was a sight that always took his breath away.

"This is why I love the DSC models," he said quietly.

"I've loved ships since I was little," Kurt said. The part in his hands was a wheel with square teeth, Blaine saw now, with fine gold wiring that Kurt was in the middle of replacing. "My dad was a mechanic, but his hands were no good for the more detailed fiddly bits, so I ended up helping him a lot. I learnt to associate ships with my dad just in general." The smile on Kurt's face said more than his words about that story. "But yes, the DSCs are something special."

Blaine took a seat on the floor across from Kurt. He could feel a faint breeze drifting up from the engine, where it whirred away below them. "Do you miss him when you're out here?"

Kurt sighed. "Every day. My mother died when I was young, so for a long time it was just me and him. I mean, my step-mother is great, and Finn, my brother, of course. I love being out here, and I love my job, but I do miss my family, and my dad especially." Kurt twisted off the length of wiring with an expert flick of his wrist. "Don't you? I mean, you must have left someone behind... family? Wife? Husband? Ten children?"

Blaine laughed. "Definitely no children. No husband yet either. And my family and I have never been close. I guess I miss Rachel a bit." The day had certainly been quieter without her chatter constantly in his ear. It was strange to be in space without her around.

Kurt clipped off the end of the wiring and reached for the oil to dribble a few drops onto the wheel. "You were close?"

"Yeah, since high school."

Kurt worked quietly for a moment before he looked up again. "I'm sorry if this is a stupid comment," he said carefully, "but I thought you didn't know Mercedes before this. At least, she never mentioned you."

"I knew of Mercedes through Rachel, but I never met her. We didn't go to the same school," Blaine said with a sigh. "I went to a boy's school. I only knew Rachel because..."

Blaine was back there in his mind: those long days at Dalton. The memory came to him with the weight of regret, completely at odds with the warm room of light he was sitting in.

"You don't need to tell me," Kurt said, obviously picking up on his discomfort. "Forget I asked."

"It's not that bad," Blaine protested. He found himself talking despite the haunting memories. "The school I went to was all wealthy upper class boys with too much money and too little supervision. It wasn't a bad school but there was this one guy... I fell in with the crowd pretty easily, and we did some stupid things, blackmailing other kids because we could, stealing competition details from other schools because no one was going to challenge us with our wealthy and powerful parents. I was never really comfortable with it but I let my boyfriend at the time talk me into it. And then he decided to play a prank on this other school choir. It went wrong and a girl got injured."

Blaine focused on the way Kurt wiped over the wheel with his rag to clean off any excess oil, the way the light glinted off the bright metal. He didn't often talk about this - the shame was still too deep - and he wasn't sure how Kurt was drawing it out of him, he only knew that he hadn't been this comfortable in someone's company in a very long time. The words continued pouring out of him.

"Not badly injured, just a broken nose, but I felt terrible about it. I had my doubts about my boyfriend for a while and I knew I was doing destructive stuff but that... that was too far. I went to see the girl to apologize, and she forgave me. Rachel and I have been friends ever since."

"What happened with the guy you were dating?" Kurt asked.

"His father was a lawyer so Rachel and I couldn't do anything without his dad coming down on us. But it was enough to snap some sense into me and break up with him."

They fell silent, Blaine just breathing. He had dedicated himself to getting through his last year of school and into flight school after that. He had never once regretted turning his life around.

Kurt sat up on his knees and reached down into the engine. He set the wheel back on its rod and locked the teeth into place with the next wheel beside it. When Kurt let go they started turning again, smooth and soundless.

"What was that part for?" Blaine asked.

"The hot water system," Kurt said, replacing the floor panel with a grin. "You'll thank me for that when you want to shower tomorrow morning."

Blaine laughed. "Well, thank you."

Kurt wiped oil off his fingers on the rag. "I can't believe you've known Rachel all this time and we never met. Lima Station is such a small place. Too small sometimes."

"It's a big galaxy," Blaine pointed out. "I didn't stick around Lima long. My whole life, all I wanted to do was fly away."

Kurt nodded. "Me too."

There was a connection that went deeper than simple understanding in their smiles, an empathy, a kindred spirit. Their connection was real, Blaine could feel it. He would have liked to stay talking to Kurt all night, but they couldn't do that. Tomorrow was an early day. But whether or not Mercedes decided to keep him on, he knew this wouldn't be their last heart-to-heart. They had time.

"We should get some sleep." Blaine broke the moment and climbed to his feet, but when he stretched out a hand to help Kurt to his feet, Kurt smiled and took it. 

"You're right." Kurt stretched as he stood. "Ow, I've been sitting for too long."

"Are you going to be all right?"

"Yeah," Kurt waved him off. "I'll do some Yoga before bed."

Santana's comment about Kurt and flexibility popped unhelpfully into Blaine's head, and he took a careful step back towards the door. He didn't want to let go of this connection with Kurt, not now he had found it. The words were falling out of his mouth before he even realized what he was saying.

"When we get to Fort Thomas Station, do you have any plans?"

"I was going to browse through the malls," Kurt said. "Find some new outfits. I know it's not one of the big stations but you never know what you might find."

"Sounds good. I've never been there before, so I don't really know anything about it."

Kurt picked up the hint with a coy, little smile. "Would you like me to show you around?"

Blaine's heartbeat quickened. "I'd like that."

"Okay," Kurt ducked his head, but it wasn't enough to conceal his smile. "I'll see you tomorrow, Captain."

The flutter of excitement in Blaine's stomach made him want to dance, but he restrained himself to a pleasant, "Goodnight, Kurt," and bowed out the door. But as soon as the door of his quarters shut behind him, Blaine bounced backward onto his bed. There wasn't enough space for anything else. And as he lay staring up at the ceiling, his smile spread and stretched wide across his face.

*

 

A station spun quietly in space. No ships came or went and the only lights on it were red emergency lights and some residual power in one small corner.

Buzzing white noise filled the comm. network, and the stars spun slowly around it, cold and silent.

*


	2. Chapter 2

The mood on board was high the next morning, or perhaps it was only that Blaine was feeling so hopeful.

He settled into his cockpit seat after their early breakfast, watching the time to arrival run down. Brittany had her hair tied up with a cable again and seemed lost in her own world.

They came out of U-Space in a wind down of engines and clearing screens. Fort Thomas Station filled all of Blaine's screens, a dark shape against an inky black canvas.

It took him a moment to register exactly how dark the station was. It took him another moment after that to register what that meant.

"What in the...?"

The whole station hung dark in space, unlike any he had ever seen before. No lights except for glowing red emergency lights were visible on the great structure, as though everything had burnt out black and dead.

"Brittany, open a comm. frequency."

A couple of seconds later, static blared into Blaine's skull. His jaw throbbed and Blaine clutched a hand to his face before Brittany managed to shut it off.

She was rubbing her temple and staring at the station like she didn't understand what was happening.

Something heavy settled in Blaine's stomach. He wasn't sure why, but a dull feeling of dread settled over him. He needed more information.

He reached for his plugin, switching frequencies just in time to hear Mercedes shriek in his ear.

_"... the hell is going on, Captain?"_

"I don't know, Mercedes, but I'm going to find out. Brittany, run a diagnostic on the station and let us know what you find."

The ship drifted silently now that the engine had powered down to running only the basic facilities for life support and gravity, but the comm. chatter more than made up for it.

_"Looks like they lost power..."_ Tina's voice, Blaine recognized.

_"Let's hope that's all it is."_

_"Santana, don't."_

_"But the whole station at once?"_ Kurt's distinctive voice sounded highly skeptical.

_"Hey, remember that time all of New York Station lost power?"_ Tina pointed out. _"That was much bigger than this. We don't need to start freaking out over nothing."_

_"Captain,"_ Mercedes said again. _"Is this all of it, or do we have other views?"_

"Uh," Blaine flicked through the views he had on one of his smaller screens. "The ship's sensors can only pick up so much from this angle and from this distance." But he sent further views back through the ship so they could all see for themselves.

_"Wait, what's that?"_

"Where?"

_"Close up on the lower levels."_

Blaine enlarged the screen that had caught Mercedes' attention. Two parts of the station stuck at right angles to each other, rotating slowly in opposite directions, but still caught in the station's external gravity field, keeping them from drifting apart across space.

_"The whole station's come apart..."_ Mercedes' voice was no more than a breath over the comm. network.

"Not only that," Blaine added. "There's power on somewhere. The gravity field is still running, otherwise those sections would have been blown into space by now." He pulled up any views he could find to see clearer.

At the same time Brittany spoke up again. "The station's emergency power's been routed to the delta levels, major external damage, all escape pods jettisoned, and one large life sign on board. So it's either human or someone left behind their pet tiger."

"Where?" Blaine asked.

The main fixedscreen filled with a new view, made up of composites, but the soft glow of internal lighting was like a beacon in the darkness. Someone had power on in there.

_"So what happened?"_ Tina asked, voice quieter this time.

_"That's what we're going to find out,"_ Mercedes said. _"And then I'm going to find out where Sam went."_ She said it so fiercely it was impossible not to believe her.

Everything about this screamed warnings at Blaine, making him wary and on edge. "Brittany," he said. "Scan the immediate area too. See if you can find any clues."

"I don't know what those look like."

"Just tell me what you find. Santana, any guesses?" He could almost hear the wheels turning in Santana's shrewd mind.

_"Looks to me like an explosion."_

Blaine's stomach knotted up.

_"An explosion?"_ Mercedes asked.

_"The edges are scorched,"_ Santana explained. _"Split the whole station in two. And it wasn't an internal explosion either. See how those edges curve inwards? That's a force from outside that caused that."_

Blaine glanced over his shoulder. "Brittany?"

"Nothing else around here. It's just us and the stars."

That was only vaguely reassuring. Something had exploded on the outside of that station with enough violence to tear it into two. Something had driven the people on board to flee.

"This is recent," he said slowly. "There's been no alarms raised."

_"Or else everyone who tried to raise the alarm died,"_ Santana pointed out.

"What about the person or tiger left alive on the station?" Brittany asked.

_"A survivor maybe?"_ Mercedes asked.

_"Or the perpetrator,"_ Santana said. _"I don't like this. That's not a normal explosion."_

"What's a normal explosion?" Brittany whispered to Blaine, but Santana was already continuing.

_"Someone caused that. From the outside. For all we know they could be on board right now scavenging what they can. And if no one else is going to say it, I will: we all know pirates have been attacking the smaller stations lately, and they don't leave survivors."_

Blaine's thoughts raced in a troubled tangle. No one had even radioed for help. Likely the explosion had taken out the communications station, but that meant whoever had caused this had known precisely what they were doing. It backed up Santana's pirate theory, and made Blaine even more anxious.

The closest station was twelve hours away, and any survivors would take that long to reach help, plus at least another twelve hours for help to arrive back here. Considering that help hadn't arrived yet, that meant this disaster had happened less than twenty-four hours ago. Probably less than twelve since there was no alert on the ether net.

"We can be back at Lima Station in twenty-four hours," he said out loud.

_"We're can't just leave!"_ Tina said.

_"Sure we can,"_ Santana said. _"It'd be the safest option. My job is to keep Mercedes safe and I'm not keen on playing hero."_

"Mercedes?" Blaine asked. "It's your ship."

Mercedes sighed audibly. _"What about the survivor on board? What if they're injured or dying?"_

Blaine hesitated.

_"If they're a survivor,"_ Santana reminded them.

"What if they're lonely?" Brittany asked.

_"Can you even dock without a Control?"_ Santana asked.

Blaine nodded slowly, even though she couldn't see him. "I can." It was exactly what was never supposed to happen, and he hadn't done it since training, but he knew his own skills.

There was silence across the comm. network for a while, everyone mulling over their own concerns. Blaine kept his eyes on the screens. Help should arrive in a few hours, but if someone was dying right now that might not be soon enough.

At last Mercedes spoke up again. "You're the captain. What do you suggest?"

Blaine sighed. "I don't think we can just leave someone behind if they need help," he conceded, "but we're not going in unarmed either. We should be safe enough here now, but I'm not going to risk anything."

_"Aye, Captain,"_ Santana drawled, but he thought she sounded satisfied.

Blaine turned back to his instruments. "Kurt, we're going to have to make a series of short distance hops through U-Space."

_"I'm ready when you are."_

Blaine tuned out of the comm. network again as he set to work.

The first hop was easy. It was the one they would have taken with Control to guide them anyway, and it was going to take them to the standard five buffer lengths from whichever docking arm he chose. It was the hops after that that were more challenging, and the closer to the station, the more tricky the fold.

He began to sweat. Even in training he was taught that a lack of Control was practically unheard of. He and the other students had had more training in emergency planet landings and engine failure than in hop-docking, and although Blaine knew he had mastered this once, his training was suddenly too many years ago for comfort.

Every finger width was going to count. He kept his eyes on his instruments as he ran the numbers. One wrong calculation and he would crash right into the station, but when were his other calculations ever wrong? He had to remember that he could do this. He was a good pilot.

Blaine let go of his breath.

Whitney eased into the first fold. They came out of U-Space with a docking arm large on screen. Around the curve of the station Blaine could see the lights of functioning power. So close. He couldn't let himself think about that right now.

Blaine checked to make sure his numbers matched his measurements and slid carefully into the second fold.

There was no countdown for this short distance folding, just a flash across his screens, and then he was facing the stars. The docking port now waited in his aft view. Blaine took a breath and kept his eyes on the numbers. So far, so good, but he couldn't relax yet.

The next hop needed to get them as close to the docking port as possible without hitting the station. If he got this right he was buying himself champagne at his earliest opportunity. Of course, if he didn't get this right, he might not be around to buy anything.

His numbers were still lining up with his screens. Blaine swallowed. No one had ever said being a pilot was boring.

His fingers were clammy when he released the seal that would lock them in, and his heart beat like a hammer. 

Blaine slid the control into fold.

Screens flashed. Whitney jolted and he was hurled forward in his seat. Metal screeched and Blaine flushed hot with panic. He glanced over the screens, searching for what had gone wrong, as the ship shuddered all around him. Warning signs blinked at him, and negative numbers flashed an angry red. 

He didn't have the time to work out what they meant before a hiss replaced the screech of metal. For a horrifying moment he thought he'd torn a hole in the ship's hull.

But on his screens their oxygen held steady, and a second later he registered the seals locking into place around the port opening.

Blaine almost fainted with relief. He'd scraped in a tiny bit too high, thrown off by the slow rotation of the crippled station, but he'd managed to attach nonetheless. Everything stilled abruptly. The seals were holding. The ship was still in one piece - if a little scratched - and locked firmly onto Fort Thomas Station.

Something trickled down Blaine's temple, and he swiped away the sweat as he sank back in his seat. When he switched his plugin on again, he was overwhelmed with voices.

_"I can't believe we just did that."_ Kurt sounded as breathless as Blaine felt.

_"Thank you, Captain Anderson."_ Mercedes acknowledged.

_"I don't like guns."_

_"I don't care, Tina,"_ Santana's voice was clear. _"You have a license. You're going to be armed. You don't have to like it."_

Blaine turned around to find Brittany smiling at him.

"Lord Tubbington and I knew you could do it."

That was more comforting than it probably should have been and Blaine smiled back. "Thank you, Brittany."

*

 

Santana was first out the door as soon as it opened, a gun in each hand, but the boarding corridor lay empty. There was light on here and air still circulating, which was why Blaine had chosen it, but that also made it all the more dangerous for them.

Santana walked carefully ahead, weapons trained and ready for anything, but nothing moved ahead of her. Only silence lurked in the corridor beyond. She indicated safety with two raised fingers.

Brittany stepped out after her, head bent low over a freescreen and the map that was displayed there, and Tina fell into step beside her. Tina's grip on her own firearm was far less sure, but still she moved steadily and with enough determination to almost cover her nerves.

Mercedes followed them, armed only with Tina's first aid case, and Blaine moved up beside her, cocking the unfamiliar weapon in his hands as he went.

Only Kurt stayed behind to guard the ship, a gun in one hand and spinning some kind of wicked-looking short sword in the other. He gave Blaine a crooked grin as he stepped back inside the door, before he was hidden from view again.

Blaine stepped forward with Mercedes, taking in everything around them. Superficial cracks spiderwebbed along the walls, but everything still held together. All their instruments had declared this section airtight, but those cracks weren't reassuring him. The silence rang in his ears as they moved forward, everyone stepping silently as ghosts as they moved along the docking corridor.

Blaine's heart pounded, hyper aware of every sound, but only the circulating air could be heard around them. It was unnerving. He'd never encountered a station so still. So dead.

No one appeared ahead of them. No one attacked them.

Santana stopped near the end of the docking arm, waiting for them to catch up. Beyond her, Blaine could see the scanners and security gate, lit up but deserted. Everything still looked so normal, only a short distance from where the station had been blown in two, but the emptiness and the silence screamed of what had happened here.

Blaine moved up opposite Santana, both their eyes fixed on the exit, creating a small shield between the rest of their crew and whatever lay beyond.

_"What now, Captain?"_ Santana asked in a voice so low that only her implant transmitted it to Blaine.

"I'll take the right, you take the left."

She nodded in acknowledgement.

They both crept forward.

Blaine was sure that whoever was down here had heard or at least felt the ship attach. Space had no buffers. The question was only who would see whom first.

In the security area nothing moved. 

Santana glanced at him. At least she respected his position enough to let him take the lead now.

Blaine held up three fingers in silent countdown. Extra ammunition weighed at his belt, a constant reminder of their caution.

They entered the security area together, keeping low.

Empty white counters on either side stayed just as empty. No feet showed underneath, but they still took the time to check each counter.

There weren't many places to hide, but beyond the next door lay the waiting lounge. That meant shops and counters and storage rooms and access rooms and other docking tunnel entrances. They would have to check all of them.

Brittany, Mercedes, and Tina remained at the edge of their docking arm, keeping to the walls, as Blaine and Santana took up positions on either side of the next doorway. Tina's eyes kept darting side to side, constantly alert.

Blaine's heart beat in his ears and his breathing sounded abnormally loud in the stillness. This was going to be the real test.

What he could see of the lounge was deserted and still. Empty rows of chairs stretched along the length of the room. Garbage and goods were scattered across the floor and a couple of damaged lights flickered and buzzed.

He steeled himself and gave the countdown. His heart thudded like a drum on each count and he hardly dared to breathe.

On one, he and Santana burst into the lounge, footsteps hushed. They ducked for the nearest shelter. No one appeared. No one attacked. The room stayed silent.

Blaine crouched behind a length of seating, his eyes taking in everything, searching for motion. The floor was a mess of garbage and glass shards. Someone had been through here in a hurry, attacking or escaping from attck, it was impossible to tell. Opposite him, Santana crouched behind a large potted plant, dark eyes scanning the room, never still.

He was so tense he almost jumped out of his skin when Brittany's voice spoke up.

_"A door just opened down the other end of the lounge from you. I tried to get camera access but they're all down."_

Blaine met Santana's eyes.

They didn't even need to gesture to make the decision together. As one, they moved quickly and silently towards the far end, keeping low behind furniture and corners for cover. When Blaine cast a glance at the far door it was shut again and nobody was in sight, but that didn't mean there was no one hiding just out of sight, or waiting just beyond it.

He held his breath, taking in the stillness.

There was a stall off to one side of the door. It would provide the perfect cover for someone wanting to hide.

When Blaine glanced over at Santana, she nodded.

Then she flicked the safety on one of her guns. The ominous sound echoed in the silent room.

"You're surrounded," Blaine said out loud. "We don't want to hurt you, but we will if we have to."

Only silence replied, and Blaine waited. He strained to hear any other sound, but there was nothing. He was just considering moving in, when a shaky male voice replied.

"Okay."

A young man rose slowly to his feet behind the stall, arms raised, with a broomstick clutched in one hand.

"Don't shoot," he said, tossing the broomstick aside. "I'm unarmed and..." his voice shook, "I'm the only one here."

His face and hands were streaked with grime and he wore workman's overalls, also crumpled and dirty. He wasn't any older than Blaine and his crew, with short blond hair, and Blaine was so focused that he didn't hear Santana move.

She dropped her guns and stood. "Trouty Mouth."

_"It's him,"_ Brittany's voice piped through their plugins at the same time. _"It's..."_

"Sam!" Mercedes' voice drowned her out.

Blaine turned when he heard Mercedes' shoes thump across the floor.

Sam broke into a wide smile, and that was good enough for Blaine.

He stood and secured his gun again, breathing out all the tension that remained in him. His limbs almost trembled with tension.

It wasn't the kind of reunion from the movies, given Sam's wince when Mercedes threw herself at him and her hurried apology, but it was still pretty good. Blaine hadn't seen two people more enraptured with each other in a long time. They wouldn't take their eyes off each other, except to greet each other with kisses, and their smiles shone so bright they were almost blinding. They didn't even look around when Tina and Brittany trailed into the room more slowly.

"Great, now we've lost Mercedes for the rest of the day," Santana rolled her eyes. "Hey, you two, postpone the PDA for a minute. What the hell happened here?"

"Uh..." Sam took Mercedes' hand in his, tangling their fingers together.

She only smiled wider.

"A container fell on me," Sam explained. "I think I cracked a couple of ribs."

Mercedes nudged his arm. "I think she means, what happened to the station?"

"Oh," some of the light in Sam's eyes died. "I don't know. There was like, an explosion and everyone ran for it. I stayed to help but then I hurt my foot so I missed the last life pod before it left."

"And no one else was hurt and left behind?" Santana asked.

"No, there were. At first there were a lot of injured."

"So what happened?"

Sam cleared his throat and dropped his gaze.

A chill crept down Blaine's back.

"I wasn't badly hurt," Sam started. "I mean, I can still walk, so... a lot of other people couldn't. I heard it when the shooting started. I hid under the floor panels, got a couple of burns on my shoulders from all the wiring," he gestured over his shoulder for emphasis, "so they didn't find me. By the time it was quiet again everyone else was dead."

Mercedes wrapped her arms around his waist, pulling him nearer. Sam's gaze was far away, but even though she was considerably shorter than him, he leaned into her, holding her close.

"But who did all this?" Santana wanted to know.

Sam shrugged awkwardly with one shoulder. "I never saw them. They ransacked the place. I guess they took off with whatever they found."

At his illustrative wave at the rest of the room, Blaine glanced around. Now that he could see it all clearly it really did look like someone had raided every shop and stall and machine throughout the lounge. Cash registers stood open, vending machines pried and smashed open, all the things Blaine hadn't taken note of earlier. But the thing that stood out the most was the blue graffiti scrawled large across the wall: a circle with two curving lines through the middle, like a road, or two Ss.

Blaine's heart dropped. The design was done carelessly, but something caught in his memory.

It couldn't be right. He was seeing things skewed by memory. Someone had come up with a similar design; that was the only explanation that made sense.

"Is this their symbol?" he called out.

"Must be," Sam called back before he continued speaking to the others. "I managed to re-route some emergency power down here so at least I wouldn't freeze to death. It's not the best patch-up job, but I did what I could."

"When did all this happen?" Santana asked.

"It started about ten hours ago? I know it was late yesterday cause I was working late because of my asshole boss. I... probably shouldn't call her that though; I don't know where she is now either. I think I was hiding for hours, waiting until it was quiet again."

All their voices came to Blaine a little distantly. There was no way in the universe he could be seeing this, but the memory was clear, and this graffiti bore a striking resemblance to the old design behind his eyes.

*

 

Blaine had never been on a station so silent. Dead silent. Doors sounded too loud, and everyone spoke in whispers if they needed to speak at all. Every sound echoed in the emptiness.

Away from the port, the devastation was even worse.

Some hallways were full of bodies. Blaine didn't even bother checking them. Brittany's scan hadn't picked up any other life remaining on this station, and the smell of death was everywhere.

At a junction, a couple was slouched against the base of the wall, clinging to each other even in death. The man was bent over the woman, his head against her shoulder, as though he'd been trying to shield her from the shot that had killed them both. She was staring up at nothing.

Blaine held his breath as he reached out to close her eyes. He didn't want to touch anything too much before the authorities got here, but he had to do that.

Apart from the bodies, blood was spattered on the wall. Some was even up on the ceiling above them. He didn't want to know how it had got there.

It was all so wrong. His stomach churned. It couldn't be right, what he had seen; the symbol in his memories just didn't reconcile with this violence. None of it made any sense to him.

At his side, Tina shuddered. "We should leave. Get some help. And Sam needs a doctor."

"Yeah," Blaine sighed. He stood back up, unable to look away from the couple before him. He hoped they were in a better place now. "Head back, everyone. There's nothing else we can do here right now."

Pale faces nodded back at him.

Now that he had seen for himself the horror that remained of Fort Thomas, he knew it wouldn't leave his dreams for a while. Memories turned sick inside him as they made their way back to the ship.

*

 

Tina's verdict was that Sam had a couple of broken ribs, small, second degree burns on the backs of his shoulders, and a twisted ankle. Sam's response was that the ankle hurt the worst, but as long as he could still hobble around on that, he didn't need to be in med bay.

The two of them were still arguing when Blaine headed back up to the cockpit. It was time to get moving. They could get to the nearest station in twelve hours, and any survivors would be raising the alarm any moment, so help should be arriving soon from any military ships that happened to be in the area. He still wasn't sure he'd seen what he'd seen on the wall, but if there was any possibility of being right, he knew he had to tell someone.

He sank into the captain's chair still as confused as before. Brittany was already at her station, and... was she purring at the computer?

Blaine touched his plugin. "Can I get your attention, everyone, please? I'm going to take us out into space again now. We should reach Cincinnati Station in twelve hours time."

He started putting in his co-ordinates, already running through the math as he did so.

_"Thanks, Captain,"_ Mercedes replied. _"I think I speak for all of us when I say we just want this trip over with."_

_"God, yes,"_ Tina put in.

Blaine smiled weakly, feeling their exhaustion. "Okay then, everybody, hold onto something while we detach and fold into U-Space."

Without Control he could only count to ten in his head before releasing the docking seals. The ship lurched as the seals released and came loose. Finally they were drifting away from Fort Thomas Station again.

Blaine's screens showed their route. His numbers looked good, and he started the countdown. In his aft screen he watched the docking arm retreat behind them. Their detachment propelled them achingly slowly away from the station, and he watched the numbers count down a little distantly, just glad to be away from the scene behind them.

Three...

Two...

One...

Zero.

The numbers stopped and nothing happened.

Blaine frowned and glanced over his screens again. Everything looked good.

"Kurt, is something wrong down there?"

_"The U-Space Drive won't start,"_ he sounded perplexed. _"It's functioning but the instructions aren't coming through from the computer."_

"That's because there's a block on our computer," Brittany said flatly. "But only on the U-Drive."

"Can you remove it?"

Brittany nodded. "It'll take a while though because it's not coming from Lord Tubbington."

_"Then where is it coming from?"_ Kurt asked.

Blaine looked up at the main screen just in time to see another ship appear ahead of them. His stomach dropped.

_"What the hell is going on?"_ Santana wanted to know.

Blaine could think of several things that could be happening, involving cloaking webs and U-Drive jammers, none of them good.

"We're not alone out here," he said shortly. "Kurt, can you do anything?"

_"Sure, I'll just quickly transform myself into a U-Space Drive to get us going,"_ was the caustic reply.

"Brittany?"

"It's not letting me in," she sounded close to tears, and Blaine actually felt bad for snapping at her.

In front of them a loading door on the other ship opened like a giant maw. Propelled by their detachment, they were drifting straight towards it, and there was nothing Blaine could do to stop them. Their U-Space Drive was jammed and they couldn't even get out of the way. All he could do was watch them drift into the waiting hold of the larger ship.

He had never felt so helpless.

_"Oh, fuck that,"_ Santana snarled. _"Arm up, everybody! I don't care if you have a license or not. They're not getting us without a fight."_

Unable to sit still and stare at the approaching ship, Blaine spun out of his chair to meet Santana in front of the weapons locker, but before he even reached the door, something else occurred to him. If they were planning for the worst case scenario, there was one thing he had to keep safe.

"Brittany?" he said as gently as he could.

She looked up, her large, blue eyes, sparkling with misery.

"Come with me, and bring your freescreen."

She stood, head lowered, hair coming loose from her cable hair tie. She looked so wretched and scared it made her look about ten years younger than he knew she was.

Blaine led her out into the hallway where Santana was pulling weapons from storage again. Kurt and Tina were already with her, and Mercedes was walking with a limping Sam further along.

Blaine got Kurt's attention with a light touch. "Is there anywhere on this ship where you can hide people?"

"Not unless I dismantle the walls," he answered skeptically.

"How about one person?"

Kurt glanced at Brittany. He was quiet for a moment. Then he nodded.

Blaine sighed with relief and turned back to face Brittany. He took himself out of the comm. network long enough to speak to her privately.

"You're the only person here who can override their computer system. I don't know if they have a hacker onboard but do what you can to keep them out of our system, okay? I don't want them listening to our comms. Second, take control of their ship's system. We'll need it to escape. Keep trying until you get there, even if the rest of us are taken off the ship, no matter what happens to us, okay?"

Brittany stared at him, eyes wide, and swallowed, as though she were trying to swallow everything else she might have been feeling. Finally, she nodded.

"If we don't come back," Blaine continued, "use the last known co-ordinates in the computer and the emergency piloting system to return here, to Fort Thomas Station. You won't be able to dock without help, but tell anyone listening that the person who attacked the station is called Sebastian Smythe. Will you remember that?"

Without a word, Brittany threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. It was only slightly awkward because she was taller than him. "I won't forget," she breathed in his ear.

"Good," Blaine let her go. "Now, go with Kurt and let him hide you. We'll need you to be our computer and take control of the other ship's system."

She nodded.

Kurt took her hand. "Come on, Britt. I know where no one will ever be able to find you, even with heat-seeking devices."

Blaine watched them go, his heart a little bit lighter. One way or another, he promised himself, he was going to save as many of this crew as he could. Even if it was the last thing he did.

Santana met his eyes, her gaze strange and soft. "Okay, we'll keep you," she just said.

Blaine held out a hand to take a gun from her. The smack of it in his palm felt like a handshake.

*

 

Their slow but steady drift into the waiting cargo bay of the other ship gave them enough time to load up on more weapons than Blaine had even known they had, even though he had helped stock them.

He led his crew down to the cargo bay, where a single screen showed them their approaching path.

Kurt craned his neck to see all the details of the ship now looming over them. "A Warbler model. That's not as big as I was expecting."

"Looks big enough from here," Sam said.

"They do from the outside," Kurt said. "But they're all cargo, less crew, and they don't hold more than twenty crew members each. Smugglers and pirates love them for exactly that reason."

"That's still big enough," Sam said. "Three to one if they decide to fight us."

Blaine made sure his plugin was connected to the ship's network again as he watched the ominous door loom open in front of them. He didn't want any of them to get cut off. His heart raced, but it helped to focus on the things he needed to do. More than anything, he needed to protect his crew.

"Brittany, let us know if anyone gets into our comm. network," he said.

_"I'll keep them out,"_ she replied instead.

"Keep your plugins on," Blaine told the rest of the crew, "but don't let anyone know that they're on. They will probably suspect, but don't give them any confirmation."

Everyone nodded. Mercedes looked the most tense out of all of them. Weapons were an awful look with her red silk dress.

"Mercedes, take the door controls," he told her. That way, if anyone shot at them, she would at least have the protection of the cargo bay walls.

"So what's the plan, Captain?" Santana asked. "Shoot our way through before they can react?"

"We might have to," Blaine acknowledged. That path would end in bloodshed and most likely death for his whole crew and he wanted to avoid it if at all possible. There was no way they were better armored than whoever they were facing. "But if I were a pirate, I would line my cargo bay with weapons as soon as the other ship came in. I wouldn't even let the other crew disembark before I started shooting."

Santana nodded. "So what do we do?"

"Give me a minute."

Whitney shuddered as the cargo bay walls closed around her and the larger ship's artificial gravity took over and drew her onto the floor of the waiting cargo bay. Blaine braced himself against the wall as they wobbled. They were all out of their depth, helpless to resist the drift that led them to settle inside the other craft. On the screen, he watched the cargo door close behind them, weighing up his options. They were well and truly trapped now. He had to make a decision.

A moment later, atmosphere returned to the larger cargo bay, and armored people poured in, just as he had expected, guns raised all around them. Trying to shoot their way out would only end in a massacre. Blaine's mind settled, and their path was clear in his head all at once.

"I'm going to take a gamble and pray to anything listening that it pays off," he said out loud. "Brittany, let me get a general comm. call out on all frequencies."

_"Done."_

Blaine took a breath and spun the dial behind his ear. "Is this any way to greet an old friend, Sebastian?"

Everyone froze.

Everyone except Santana. In a second the muzzle of her gun was pressed against his neck.

Blaine muted his microphone. "I swear I haven't betrayed you, but this is either the luckiest or the unluckiest day of my life."

"Talk faster," she snapped.

Blaine shivered at the cold metal on his skin. "I'm not sure, but I think I've seen that graffiti symbol at Fort Thomas Station before; an old friend of mine used to use it when we were at school. If I'm right, this might buy us some time."

Outside and inside the cockpit no one moved. Blaine thought the whole universe was holding its breath.

The comm. crackled to life. _"Then why don't you come out and greet me... old friend?"_ It was a voice Blaine hadn't heard in years, and his shoulders sagged with relief. _"But if I see any weapons I'll shoot first."_

Blaine met Santana's eyes, praying for her to believe him. "You can shoot me now, but he'll still kill you when you step outside. Please trust me to buy us some time." He couldn't believe how calm his voice sounded given the gun against his neck and how hard his heart was beating.

Santana's eyes narrowed but she finally took the gun off him. "Fine. But if I find out you've betrayed us, there won't be a place in the universe you can hide."

Blaine nodded. "On my way," he said into the comm.

_"And your crew."_ The last reply came just before Blaine locked his comm. to all but his crew again.

Their weapons were abandoned on the floor where they dropped them.

Mercedes gave Blaine one last worried look before she opened the cargo door, but no one protested. Everyone looked equally pale, except for Santana who just looked angry, but what else could they do? Blaine knew everyone was trusting in him now. They had no other choice.

He raised his hands in surrender as he stepped outside, but his heart raced. They were exposed now. He made himself keep walking forwards so that he wouldn't turn and run back inside as much as he wanted to. He hoped he didn't look as terrified as he felt, walking out across the foreign cargo bay. Now more than ever he had to be the captain, to prove that he deserved the title.

_"I am getting really tired of raising my hands,"_ Sam mumbled.

_"You won't have to do it for much longer if I have anything to say about it,"_ Santana muttered back.

Blaine stopped in the center of the cargo bay and waited, trying to look as non-threatening as possible. It wasn't hard: his knees felt like jelly and his hands were shaking while he held them aloft.

No one in the cargo bay moved. On the up-side, no one shot at him either. Blaine held his breath on the hope that this would pay off, because if it didn't he'd just led them all to their deaths.

Behind the line of guns something finally moved, someone stepped aside, and Blaine saw for the first time in six years the familiar face. Sebastian had grown taller and more gaunt during that time, and his face now was somber and cool.

"Well, you are brave, Blaine, I'll give you that. I could have you shot right now."

"I know," Blaine's voice only wobbled a little but he refused to glance at the guns around him. Chances were high he'd just run screaming if he did that, and right now he couldn't afford to. The rest of the crew was depending on him.

Sebastian smiled, but it was so cold it sent a chill down Blaine's back. It was hard to even see the boy Blaine had once known. This man may still be called Sebastian Smythe, but he was no one Blaine recognized. This man was a stranger.

"Okay, Blaine, follow me. Men, throw the rest of them out the airlock."

Blaine reacted in horror, and took a half step forward. Dozens of guns swung at him. "Please, Sebastian, they're my crew. They won't do anything unless I tell them to, I promise." He hoped, thinking of Santana.

Sebastian regarded him for a moment, no expression on his face, and Blaine begged silently for more time. He didn't know what he was going to do with that time; he just knew it couldn't end like this.

A man in a beard came up behind Sebastian. Blaine only just caught the words that were muttered in Sebastian's ear. "Captain, we've been here for over twelve hours already. The alarm's just been raised on the ether net. If there are any military ships nearby..."

Sebastian's jaw worked.

Blaine waited. No one moved.

At last Sebastian replied, "Take us into U-Space, deep space, about six hours. I'll decide what to do with them later."

The bearded man turned and scampered away.

"You lot," Sebastian indicated a group off to the side. "Guard these. Make sure they don't try anything. The rest of you, go over the ship with a fine toothed comb."

The other men hurried to obey, and when Sebastian began walking away, Blaine followed him. He'd bought them time. At least six more hours for Brittany to take over the ship's computer. Six hours until they were cast out of the airlock. Six hours to convince Sebastian to let them go. It was a small hope, but it was something.

"Don't be too relieved," Sebastian said as they walked. "You're still my prisoners."

"I know," Blaine said. "But they're my crew."

Sebastian smirked. "Yes, you always were the sentimental type."

A small part of Blaine wanted to point out that it was sentimentality on Sebastian's part that had spared them just now, but he wasn't stupid enough to say it, so he kept quiet. Instead he followed Sebastian down a bare hallway. His legs still trembled as he walked, but he clung to that small window of time. He hoped it was enough.

One crewman walked with them; the rest were probably fulfilling Sebastian's orders or flying the ship. That gave Blaine a rough estimate of fifteen to twenty crew on board. Not an extreme number, but still not good odds if he wanted to plan an escape.

"So, a pilot?" Sebastian asked. "I'll bet you graduated at the top of your class." The tone was mocking, but Blaine couldn't resist.

"With honors," he said.

Sebastian laughed, sharp and hard, like a blade cutting the air. "That doesn't surprise me, given that hop-docking you managed earlier. Even my pilot was impressed; I think she was a bit jealous actually. I honestly didn't expect you to even attempt a docking. I was getting ready to haul you in then and there."

"We couldn't leave the only life sign on the station to die," Blaine told him.

"No, you wouldn't, would you?" Sebastian stopped at a doorway and swung it open. "In here."

The room was uncommonly large, full of couches and tables for entertainment. A large screen filled one wall, and Blaine glanced at it just in time to see it blur with fragmented light. They were in U-Space now. At least no one could open any airlocks now for another six hours, not if they wanted to keep their own ship intact.

Other doors led into the room, but they were all shut, and Blaine couldn't see where they led. At a guess Blaine would have said they were in the crew commons now.

Sebastian turned to his man. "Stay here. Don't let anyone else in."

"Aye, Captain."

The door shut with a clunk and Blaine was alone with Sebastian for the first time since high school.

"So how did you know it was me?" Sebastian asked. "Or do you randomly go around the universe asking for me?"

"I saw your symbol on Fort Thomas Station. The circle and two Ss? Sebastian Smythe."

Sebastian grinned. "Ah yes, of course. I forgot you knew about that."

"You wrote it on my skin often enough."

"Those were good days," Sebastian mused with a smile. "The halcyon days of youth. And now look at us."

Blaine shrugged awkwardly. He didn't feel comfortable enough to sit, even when Sebastian did.

"So you made it," Sebastian said. "You became a pilot after all, threw yourself at the stars and never looked back, just like you said. How did your father take that?"

It was disconcerting how much Sebastian still knew about him. The tone was mocking, the words designed to sting, but in this one instance Sebastian had misfired. Blaine had no regrets about his career, and he was glad for the distance from his father.

"He was just glad it was a stable career," Blaine said.

Sebastian smirked. "Never knowing it was him you were flying away from? I always told you he was a stupid bastard."

"I never disagreed with you," Blaine pointed out.

"Go on then, I know you want to ask. How did I go from private school boy to galactic pirate?"

A chill ran down Blaine's back when he asked, "How did you?"

Sebastian sprawled out on one of the couches, as if he didn't have a care in the universe. "My options were either become a lawyer like my father, or pick something as different from that as possible."

"Breaking the law?"

"You know he didn't care what I was doing. None of them cared about us. And it wasn't like it was all at once. Running a ship here, a bit of pick pocketing there, child's play. And then my father died and I inherited everything including his ship, and well, it's amazing how many bitter people are willing to find better pay in this universe," he shrugged. "I saw no reason to stop."

Sebastian still looked so much like the boy he had once known, and yet so different. Blaine couldn't be sure anymore if what Sebastian was saying was the truth or cover for something else. He had always been a good liar, and he'd become even harder to read.

"So..." Blaine started, "it all happened because you were bored?"

"It's not a bad life," Sebastian told him. "Lots of travel, excitement, and it pays well, not that I need it. Don't you remember what it was like back at school? Imagine that multiplied by ten."

Blaine remembered the rush of adrenalin, the pounding pulse, the exhilaration of success. He also remembered hating himself afterwards. Even when he'd had his doubts about Sebastian, the discomfort wasn't enough to make him stop, because it was all he had, his only friend. Until Rachel.

"I remember," he said, quietly.

Sebastian looked at him shrewdly. "It seems to me like you have two options, Blaine. I'd be happy if you wanted to stick with me. It would be just like old times. You and me. Your whole crew even, if they're as loyal to you as you say they are. And before you point out the obvious, no, I would never trust them, but neither do I trust anyone else on this ship as it is. Hell, any one of my men could stab me in the back any day."

Blaine wondered what kind of crew worked together without trust.

"You other option, of course, is the airlock," Sebastian added. "And while I know you don't want that and I would hate to see you go that way, you know I can't let you leave, not now."

Blaine nodded. He could see it now. If anyone new joined up, Sebastian would see to it that they would soon have blood on their hands too, until they had gone so far they couldn't turn back, until they had no choice but to stay with this crew, criminals bound by common sins. There would be no leaving this time, no pulling back before it was too late. The boy Sebastian had been wasn't a killer back then.

Blaine realized he was going to have to force Sebastian to let them go. Somehow.

He sighed. "I'll have to talk to my crew."

Sebastian waved a careless hand, a wordless 'of course,' before standing. "But in the meantime..." He wandered over to the drinks dispenser. A few commands later and two glasses of sparkling champagne stood before him.

"A toast," Sebastian said, passing one glass to Blaine, "to old friends."

His voice still dripped with the same mockery, and Blaine took the glass with trepidation. "How do I know this isn't poisoned?"

Sebastian shrugged. "You don't."

Blaine's brain told him to drop the glass, play it safe, rather than drink. It would be so easy for Sebastian to get rid of him now and then murder the rest of his crew, and Blaine certainly didn't trust Sebastian. Someone had killed a lot of people on Fort Thomas only yesterday, and even if Sebastian hadn't pulled any of the triggers, he was still responsible for what his crew did. One way or another, Sebastian still had blood on his hands.

But Blaine also remembered who Sebastian had once been. He knew Sebastian's thirst for excitement. He knew how bored Sebastian got when he couldn't bully, blackmail, or assault someone, even back in high school. He thought Sebastian would probably keep him around for a few hours if only for amusement value, for a change of scenery.

He lifted his glass to Sebastian's and the clink rang out light and clear across the room.

"To old friends," he said, and took a drink.

*

 

Santana played with her hair elastic. She'd started playing with her hair when they were herded together in the center of the cargo bay, but now she'd progressed to just stretching the elastic between her fingers, her hair falling forward around her face as she listened to the conversation.

She couldn't hear Sebastian's side of the conversation, but she could hear Captain Anderson. It was enough to reassure her that he'd been telling the truth. If he had betrayed them all to pirates, he'd have told Captain Smythe where to find Brittany by now.

She also knew that no pirate in their right mind intentionally set a trap for a small passenger ship. Especially not immediately after they'd already raided an entire, well-stocked station. Their capture had to have been opportunistic, rather than planned.

Santana listened as Captain Anderson started talking about everything that had happened to him since he'd left school, catching up on old news about his studies and other boring things. By now her face was well hidden by her hair.

"You there, Britt?"

_"Yes. Still in the fridge."_

"The what?"

_"Kurt sealed me in the back wall of the fridge. By the way, no one can hack into our network now. Lord Tubbington has much bigger teeth."_

"What about their computer network?"

_"It's really confusing. Whoever wrote their code didn't speak computer. But Lord Tubbington and I will get there. Maybe another three hours."_

Santana glanced casually up at the guards, but no one was watching her too closely. They were far more interested in the things being carried out of Whitney: all their weapons, Mercedes' jewelry, and lots and lots of food. They were even carrying spare parts and tools to dump out onto the floor of the cargo bay, and anything else that wasn't nailed down.

Santana bent over her elastic again. They needed a backup plan, not that she didn't think Brittany would crack the system eventually, but if paranoid pirates proved impossible even for her genius, they couldn't very well just sit here.

"Kurt, could you sabotage the engine?"

"Yes," Kurt breathed, barely moving his lips. "If I could get there."

On her other side, Tina was busy explaining to Sam some exercises for his ankle, drawing attention to them. That was what they all needed. A diversion.

*

 

"I didn't expect anyone to still be around twelve hours after you attacked the station," Blaine confessed.

"Yes, I like to hang around after. Often the first thing people will do after they've been attacked is check their valuables. It's amazing what you sometimes find you missed."

"But this time you killed them all."

"Except the man under the floorboards," Sebastian said. "Oh, I knew he was there, I've learnt never to work without heat-seeking devices, but since he couldn't see us he was no great threat. Everyone who saw our faces had to be eliminated."

"The man was only a workman, manual labor."

"Pity," Sebastian sighed. "I was hoping maybe a diplomat or someone equally important. Still, you can't win them all."

"And then you hid with a cloaking web," Blaine guessed. "Because our scanners didn't find anything."

"Good, isn't it? Took me years to get my hands on one but it's worth its weight in gold."

"And the U-Drive jammer?"

"That was cannibalized from a military wreck. It comes in handy every now and then."

Blaine shook his head. He still couldn't get his head around how much Sebastian had changed. He'd always been an asshole, but this was a whole new league.

He remembered two boys walking with their arms wrapped around each other, while their friends talked and laughed.

"Did you see his face?" Alan asked.

Sebastian lit up. "One picture I will never forget," his arm tightened around Blaine's waist. "Right, Blaine?"

Blaine's stomach squirmed, but it was only a computer manipulated picture that wouldn't stand up to scrutiny. And it was only a bottle of red wine after all. He told himself he needed to lighten up.

"What's the brand?" he asked instead.

"Pinot Noir... Excelsior Valley," Sebastian read. "Nice. We are going to party tonight, boys."

Some whoops and cheers accompanied their entrance back onto Dalton grounds as they started up the long drive. Blaine stayed quiet, but let Sebastian guide him along.

"Feeling nostalgic?" Sebastian asked, and Blaine was back on a ship in space.

He shrugged. "What about you? Are you going to spend the rest of your life living as a pirate?"

"Probably. It suits me."

He knew it was hopeless, even before he said it, but he had to. "You could come with us. Start over."

Sebastian actually laughed at that. "I hope you're joking. Or are you actually that naïve?"

Blaine ignored the mockery. "I didn't think you'd want it, but the offer's there. And I'd help in any way I could."

"Ah, Blaine," Sebastian wiped his eyes. "You really haven't changed. Still reaching out to your enemies."

Blaine would have disagreed. Last time he'd reached out he'd found Rachel, and he wouldn't have changed that for anything. He wasn't the same person he had been back then, and he wouldn't be so easily led by Sebastian anymore, but arguing would have been useless, and Sebastian had changed far more.

*

 

It was a long time before Captain Anderson came back to the cargo bay, and when he did he went straight to Mercedes.

"Hey, how are you holding up?"

"All right," Mercedes said with more life than Santana had expected. "Wishing I could smack a bitch for going through my stuff."

He laughed softly. "Yeah, keep your chin up. Captain Smythe has made us an offer. If we agree to join his crew he'll let us live."

"And you agreed to that?" Mercedes sounded every inch the scandalized diva.

"Nope. I told him I'd talk to all of you first."

"Well, you tell that slug he can shove his offer where the sun don't shine."

Santana glanced around at their guards. They were close enough to overhear most, although not all of what was being said.

Captain Anderson was clearly playing it safe. He just smiled and said, "That's what I thought you might say."

Sebastian was standing a little way away, talking to some of the men. Santana had a sudden urge to slap that smirk right off his face.

She stood. "Are you fucking kidding me right now?"

Weapons were raised as she stalked towards the pirate captain, but she didn't give them the excuse to fire, stopping well short of him.

"Do you know where I come from? Lima Heights Adjacent. And do you know what happens in Lima Heights Adjacent?"

Sebastian raised his eyebrows at her and crossed his arms.

_"Santana!"_ Captain Anderson hissed in her plugin, but she ignored him.

"We eat boys like you for breakfast," she continued. "In fact, if you turn five without knowing how to fight your own battles we call you Rat Food. I grew up with daily fights over who got to use the footpath, chasing boys like you out of my streets, and now you think I'll just jump and join you because you're bigger and stronger?"

"Santana," Captain Anderson sounded anxious behind her, but Sebastian held up a silencing hand.

"No, wait, she amuses me," he said, speaking directly to Santana then. "What exactly do you want?"

Santana tossed her head and gave him her best bitch face. She had a lifetime of practice behind that. "I want you and me, in two hours time, anywhere you want, pick your favourite martial art and face me like a man. I win, you let us go. You win, you can do whatever you want to us."

Sebastian smirked. "Bold. I like that. But you don't get to dictate the terms around here. You lose, you get thrown out of the airlock. You win, I'll grant you a quick death by shooting you myself."

Santana stared at him, rage rolling lazily through her system. Rage always energized and warmed her, and right now it felt good to hate this man.

"Oh, and also, you won't be fighting me," Sebastian added. "You'll be fighting my first mate and guard, Big Jim," he indicated the man standing at his shoulder.

Big Jim was tall and built like a truck. Of course. Santana shot him a glare for good measure.

Sebastian smiled without warmth. "See you in two hours."

The cargo bay was silent as he walked away again, everyone frozen in shock. Only the usual guards were left behind.

"Santana?" Captain Anderson said quietly.

She spun past him, back to the group. She had two hours to warm up.

"You shouldn't have done that," Mercedes said, clearly worried, but Santana only looked at Kurt.

He was pale and wide-eyed, staring at her like he'd never seen her before.

She held his gaze, wordlessly willing him to catch up.

After a moment he nodded slowly.

*


	3. Chapter 3

"It's too late to apologize," Santana told him.

"Then you'll have to throw the fight," Blaine said. "At least that way he won't shoot you."

She snapped something at him in Spanish, which he didn't understand, but the look she gave him could have curdled milk.

"It would leave you with us and give us more time, that's all," he said instead.

A hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"Let her," Kurt said.

"What?"

"You could try and order her to back out, but she's set her mind, and she's only likely to go against you now," Kurt's voice and touch were gentle, but he didn't look any more likely to be swayed than Santana.

"You agree with her?"

"I trust her. She hasn't put any of the rest of us in any further danger, and if this is what she wants to do, it's her decision, whether we like it or not."

Santana smiled triumphantly at the two of them and went back to her warm-ups.

Blaine took a breath. "My job as captain is to keep the rest of you safe."

"But you also need to trust your crew," Kurt pointed out. "If she thinks she can achieve something by this, or... I don't know, Santana's mind is still a mystery to me, but I think we need to let her do this. And I don't think the pirates are likely to let us go back on the challenge now anyway, do you? So we can either argue for the next two hours and divide the crew, or support her as one crew."

"Big Jim isn't going to fight like a gentleman," Blaine pointed out.

"Neither will Santana. And if you don't trust her, at least trust me."

That was an unfair request, and Kurt's begging eyes were more disarming than any of Santana's arguments. But it was hard to dispute his words.

The challenge had already been accepted. It would be hard, if not detrimental to back out now, and it was true that Santana had really only endangered herself. Blaine could keep arguing, could try to order Santana to obey, and keep beating his head against a brick wall. Or he could accept that she was going to do this, in front or behind his back, and let her play it as she wanted. Sometimes being captain also meant recognizing a battle lost.

Blaine felt the walls closing around him, forcing his hand. But then, everything had been forced since they had been captured.

"Santana," he turned to her again, stomach churning.

She actually rolled her eyes at her name. "What?"

"Big Jim might be built like a fortress, but you're smaller and faster, and everyone has soft tissue. Without his eyes he won't be able to see you attack."

Santana grinned. "Aye, Captain."

The excitement spread through the ship like fire in an energy plant. Blaine even saw some men taking bets, but he kept his mouth shut. This wasn't going to be a fair fight; it was going to be more like a shuttle hitting a child. But he had to let her do what she wanted. He even gave her some advice on throwing punches, as he had learned from his old boxing club.

But all the while he planned. Regardless of what happened to Santana, their timetable stayed unchanged: they had until the ship came out of U-Space. That gave them one chance. Their only chance.

Two hours later, Santana tied up her hair in her usual high ponytail, and when she brushed her plugin, Blaine only noticed because she spoke up after she did it.

"Don't bother with the first aid kit," she told Tina, but her voice in their ears was gone. "I'm not going to need it."

Tina glared at her and clutched it tighter, the only thing she had managed to carry off Whitney because it wasn't a weapon. "We'll see about that."

No one commented on the fact that Santana had taken herself out of the network. They all knew Brittany didn't need to hear what was about to happen.

Sebastian had chosen the crew commons, and all doors were open, crew members pouring in from all sides. The center of the room had been cleared, furniture pushed up against the walls, and yet everyone still fit easily around the edges of the room.

Santana and Big Jim stepped into the center, as did Sebastian.

"We all know why we're here," Sebastian announced.

The hollering reply was deafening, and Blaine slipped out from between two burly pirates. It meant that he was right at the front of the crowd, the only place could see anything because almost everyone in the room was taller than him. It looked to Blaine like the entirety of two ships crews had turned up to watch and everything inside him knotted up. They were all here to see Santana get pulverized. Their cheers, their grins, and hungry eyes only made him feel sick.

"Big Jim and Santana, are you both ready?"

Big Jim cracked his knuckles, a sound that echoed through the entire room, even above the crowd.

Santana shrugged and smiled in response, apparently completely at ease. "Ready when you are."

"The loser will be the first person to go down and not get back up again," Sebastian announced, before turning back to the two people in the center. "Whenever you're ready, go for it."

And with that he stepped back into the crowd.

Santana and Big Jim circled each other like stalking animals. The room quieted around them. Only a few rowdy pirates called out above the watching throng.

"Show her what you're made of!"

"Teach her a lesson!"

Blaine thought he might throw up just watching. He had to trust Santana, trust that she knew what she was doing, but it didn't make it any easier to stand there.

Big Jim was the first to get impatient. He lunged at Santana, but she danced out of the way before he could even touch her. As expected she was far quicker and more agile than he was.

But he wasn't stupid, and he didn't try to use the same tactic twice. On his next advance he came at her slowly, backing her up, forcing her into a defensive position. Santana watched him come, light on her feet as she retreated. Quick as a flash, she dodged around him, but she had to know that she couldn't keep this up either.

Blaine held his breath as he watched Big Jim stalk her across the room, waiting for the tension to break, for the first blow to fall. Big Jim was lumbering but careful, aware as everyone else that he was facing a more agile opponent. He wasn't prepared when Santana dropped low and landed a sharp kick to his knee.

He went down with a curse. The crowd booed.

Down on one knee, Big Jim glared up at Santana. His kneecap was a lump at the side of his knee.

Blaine relaxed a little, but not much. Sebastian stood across the room from him. Would he really shoot Santana if she won? Or would he be impressed enough, despite everything, to grant her a reprieve? Blaine didn't know how to read him anymore, or just how much he had changed. Chances were good he would go through with the threat. Blaine knew one thing at least: he was going to have to stop anyone from dying. He resolved to trade himself for Santana if it came to that. He couldn't let crew members die before him.

Big Jim slammed the heel of his palm into his kneecap, forcing it back into place. Red-faced and sweating, he climbed to his feet again, any pain he might have felt pushed aside. Raucous cheers greeted him.

It was on.

He threw himself at Santana, hurled bodily after his fists, and Santana blocked them, sending the force flying off over her shoulder. The room rang with the dull thuds of bodies colliding.

Still, Big Jim's bulk was enough to drive Santana backwards, and he followed, not letting her escape. The onslaught forced her to retreat, step by step, and when she tried to twist away like she had done before, he grabbed her around the waist.

Their bodies hit the floor with a thump. Santana let out a cry that was strangled by her gasp for breath. He was on top of her now.

Blaine saw Big Jim's arm pull back and land.

The thud of impact rang hollow in the room and Blaine winced.

He drew back to strike again when Santana's leg moved.

She moved hard and fast, and the sound of her knee hitting his skull cracked the air like thunder.

Big Jim was thrown to the side, giving her space to roll away.

Santana was touching her jaw gingerly as she rolled to her feet. She had a split lip but she just wiped the blood off on the back of her hand.

By contrast, Big Jim hardly seemed touched by the blows yet.

It only became apparent as the fight progressed that Santana was landing some effective blows of her own, which surprised and disappointed the pirates, if the grumbling around Blaine was anything to go by. But the cheers were far more common. She was no match for Big Jim. Everyone in the room knew it, and still each blow made Blaine wince and want to look away. It was harder than he'd thought, watching a crew member beaten and thrown around, even if she had instigated the whole thing.

Big Jim had a bloody nose and sweat pouring off him. Santana had a split lip, a limp, a side she was protecting, and probably black eyes forming. Yet still she grinned savagely at her opponent, looking for all the world like she was enjoying herself, and maybe she was, at least relishing the chance at some payback, no matter what it cost her.

Blaine clutched at his own elbows, knowing his palms were damp, and wishing he could put a stop to this. He didn't think he could take watching much more.

He didn't know how long the fight went on for – far longer than he was comfortable – until it happened. Santana glanced to the side, and in the moment she was distracted, Big Jim struck. They went down together.

Big Jim had obviously learnt from the first time, and this time he didn't give her any out.

Blaine watched in growing horror as Big Jim drove punch after punch into Santana's body. He couldn't see enough to know where they landed, but he saw when Santana stopped moving. Each blow landed with a sickening thud. The crowd roared.

Blaine curled his fingers into his arms, feeling how damp his hands were, forcing himself not to move, not to intervene. He almost did. He couldn't understand why it wasn't ending. Santana had long since stopped fighting back. His own fingers hurt, digging into his arms.

Then it was over.

Big Jim stood, knuckles stained red and wet, and Blaine craned his neck, but he could only see Santana still on the floor. His heart raced and he barely registered Sebastian start speaking.

"We have our winner, ladies and gentlemen. As if there was ever any doubt... Big Jim!"

The room erupted in thunderous cheers. Blaine felt sick.

As soon as the circle broke, he rushed over to Santana. No one paid any attention to the small crew who raced to her side. They were all too busy cheering for their hero, slapping his back, pounding on his shoulders. Blaine ducked around a hollering woman and got his first glimpse of Santana.

Her face was smeared with blood, her eyes glassy, but blinking. She was alive.

The relief was like a rush of cool water through his system.

"Santana?" He dropped to his knees beside her.

Santana opened her bloodied mouth, took a shallow breath, and croaked one word. "Asshole."

The relief was wild and heady and Blaine had to laugh even though it was probably not the place. On Santana's other side, Tina's face was streaked with tears. Sam and Mercedes clutched at each other like lifelines, and Kurt settled down beside Tina, twisting his hands fretfully. Over the noise of the room Blaine heard Brittany's voice clearly in his ear.

_"What happened? Is she all right? Tell me Santana's all right. Please, please, please, please, please..."_

Blaine leaned over, although he didn't think anyone was paying attention to them right now. "Your plugin," he hissed.

Santana groaned and sat up on one elbow, using the motion to hide her real intent. "I'm fine," she groaned. "Just fine. Help me up."

"You should let me look at you," Tina told her.

"I feel fine," Santana repeated through clenched teeth, lifting her arms for Kurt and Blaine to take hold.

Tina huffed out a frustrated breath.

"Well, this is nice," Sebastian appeared in front of them as they helped a struggling Santana to her feet. She hung heavily on Blaine and winced as she went, but she managed to stay upright.

"At least I won't have to waste a shot on you now," Sebastian continued.

Santana's eyes flashed and she might have snapped something if she hadn't been clenching her jaw so tight.

"Well, Blaine? Have you made your decision?"

Blaine was so focused on his own crew that it took him a moment to place what Sebastian was asking him: the decision about joining Sebastian's crew, as if he ever wanted to. But he had to protect his crew, no matter what, and if joining would give them a few more hours reprieve, or another chance to overcome their guards, he had to take it.

Blaine opened his mouth.

Behind Santana's back, Kurt grabbed his hand. The surprise of it stunned him long enough for Kurt to interrupt.

"We'd rather die than join your crew."

Sebastian gazed down his nose at Kurt.

But out of sight Kurt held onto Blaine's hand far more gently than the situation called for. Kurt's thumb ran over the back of his hand in slow and calming circles.

He wasn't sure what Kurt was trying to tell him, but Blaine couldn't disagree with his words.

"This is my crew, Sebastian," Blaine said. "I won't leave them."

Sebastian nodded. It would have been nice to see some kind of regret on his face, but there was nothing. "In less than three hours we'll be coming out of U-Space. You'll all be put out of the airlock then."

No one protested this time. They were all too exhausted and wrung out, and Sebastian left them standing silent around Santana.

"Come on," Blaine said. "Let's get you back to the cargo bay."

There were enough pirates milling around that there was nowhere else they could have gone anyway, although no one was paying them close attention anymore. As they headed back the way they had come, their progress was slow with Santana limping between them and Tina asking questions all the way.

"Does it hurt anywhere?"

"What do you think? Everywhere."

"I mean anywhere in particular."

"Look, Tina, what does it matter? You can't do anything right now anyway."

_"You should let her take care of you,"_ Brittany said. _"I want you to be okay."_

Santana sighed and deflated.

Tina smiled, recognizing the victory. "I'll do what I can."

Their guards were less vigilant now, standing further away, letting their attention wander. A pile of tools and other stuff still lay on the cargo bay floor. Only the weapons, food, and jewelry was quickly packed away in holds aboard the pirate ship, but clearly no one cared much if spare parts lay around for a while longer. Whitney's crew settled back on the floor a little way from the ship and Tina got to work. She at least managed to determine that nothing was broken.

"I told you, Lima Heights Adjacent. We don't break so easy. Ow! Do you have to?"

Tina stopped prodding her. "I don't have any scanning equipment here and I'm worried you've got internal injuries. But fine, sit here and don't move. I don't want you making anything worse."

"Well, I was going to get up and go for a run around the ship, but if you insist."

"I do."

Santana rolled her eyes but she quieted and turned to Kurt. "Well?"

"I didn't want to blow us all up," Kurt said with a casual glance around to make sure no one was listening. "So the engines will burn out the moment they power down, when we come out of U-Space. It won't save us from vacuum asphyxiation but it will keep them from going anywhere else for a while. If we're really lucky they won't have a spare binary circuit buffer pad on board and it'll strand them out here for good. A few of them might think to take Whitney to escape, but it was the best I could do in the time I had, without killing us all."

"Wait," Sam leaned forward, "the whole fight was a set up?"

Kurt and Santana glanced at each other.

"Everyone was watching Santana," Kurt said. "The ship was practically empty. It wasn't that hard to sneak away."

Blaine's heart surged with pride for the crew. He almost couldn't contain the bubble of hope and joy, and the words spilled out of his mouth without thought. "I think I could kiss you right now."

Santana made a funny noise. "God, no. Please don't."

Kurt went pink. "You'll have to buy me dinner first."

Blaine grinned at him. "Consider it something to look forward to when we get out of here. And you, Santana, are going to be my second in command from now on." His crew was incredible. This was far from a great situation they were in, but this crew were the best people to be stuck in it with.

"Yay," Santana drawled, "promoted on the floor of a pirate ship." But she was smiling so Blaine didn't take her sarcasm to heart.

He stuck out a hand and after a moment Santana shook it firmly.

"Hey! What's going on over there?" a guard called out.

Santana yelled back, "I just got a promotion from my captain. Suck on it!"

The guard snorted, "Yeah, enjoy it while it lasts," and turned away.

_"Congratulations, Santana,"_ Brittany added.

"Okay," Mercedes interrupted the congratulations, but she too was smiling, "but off ship she's still my Head of Security."

Blaine spread his hands. "Of course."

"So wait," Sam said, "you volunteered to get beaten to a pulp so Kurt could go do his thing? How'd you know everyone'd be watching you?"

"Acceptable risk," Santana shrugged. "Why d'you think I gave the news two hours to spread? I know ships; I've worked on enough of them. They're bored little incestuous communities, floating around in a whole lot of nothingness. Throw 'em a bone or a change of pace and they scamper right after it."

Blaine let the conversation cover him and spoke in a low voice. "How's it going, Britt?"

_"It's Mister Pussy. That's what their computer is called, and he's giving me all his override codes right now. I just need to change them all to stop anyone from getting control back. Give me ten minutes."_

"Do it, but don't take over control yet, and don't let anyone know you're there. Just tell us when we're about to come out of U-Space."

_"Okay. Did you know the inside of Whitney is just as sexy as the outside? I thought only Santana was like that."_

Kurt started and looked horrified. Everyone else grinned.

"Um," Blaine cleared his throat. "You're doing a great job, just keep going."

"So, what next, Captain?" Sam asked.

"We'll have to make a run for our ship when we come out of U-Space." Blaine let his eyes rove lazily around the cargo bay, counting. "Three guards. We should be able to take them down pretty quick. Kurt?"

Kurt nodded. "I can take one."

"Sam and I should be able to take one between us, if you take the third, Captain," Mercedes said. "Then Tina can help Santana."

Her suggestion was solid. As long as their guards didn't increase and no one came to help, it should all go fine. Only Santana looked for a moment like she wanted to protest, but thought better of it.

_"Two hours and fifteen minutes to go."_

*

 

The long wait only made worse the dread at what they had to do next. Blaine's crew passed the time by talking about nothing of consequence, things they didn't need to stop talking about when guards came over – and they did come over once or twice to check – just keeping company. Sam and Mercedes talked about how they met: at a gala when Mercedes was starting out on Lima and knew no one, and so befriended the handsome man handing out programs by the door. They talked about their former pilot, Finn, who really did have a good heart, but tended to misstep more often than not. And Blaine was more certain than ever that this was his crew for life. If they got out of here, even if they all worked with other crews in between tours, even if Mercedes decided not to keep him on, they were already tighter than any other group of people he had ever worked with, and that was going to stick with him forever.

But as time ran down they all became quieter. Tension returned and everyone looked to Blaine more and more. Or maybe that was just his imagination, but butterflies grew in his belly with each fifteen minutes that Brittany counted down, and the weight of responsibility settled more heavily onto his shoulders. He didn't want to let them down. He couldn't let them down. Not after all this.

_"Five minutes."_

Mercedes squeezed Sam's hand tighter.

"Read out the countdown when it comes up," Blaine told Brittany, "and when I tell you, take over control of the ship. Lock all the doors and don't let them open. We don't need more pirates rushing down here when they notice something's up. When we're all on board Whitney again, open the pirates' cargo doors. I won't have time to work out new calculations, so use the last co-ordinates in the computer and fold us out of here."

_"Okay."_

Blaine's pulse sped up again. This was it. This was their last and only chance. They couldn't afford any mistakes now. His heart hammered and he started to sweat again.

Too soon, Brittany started counting them down.

_"Three."_

Blaine took a deep breath, held it, and let it go.

_"Two."_

He tensed. Everyone else around him did too.

_"One."_

He nodded.

They scrambled. It gave them a moment of surprise on the guards.

_"Zero."_

"Now, Britt!" 

The guard in front of Blaine fumbled for his gun, relaxed for too long. Blaine swung sharp and fast. This time there were no boxing gloves to dampen the blow, and the impact cracked across his knuckles.

The guard went down just as fast and lay still. 

Blaine cradled his throbbing hand as he kicked the gun away across the floor and out of reach. He turned to see Kurt swing a high kick, laying out the second guard.

But Sam and Mercedes were struggling with the third. Mercedes was wrestling his gun away from him, while Sam held him pinned.

"Captain! The Prisoners!" he yelled. "They're trying to escape! Raise the alarm!"

Blaine ran to help, but even as he did, Mercedes seized the guard's weapon and clocked him with it. The pirate fell silent, too late.

"Go!" Blaine told them.

Tina and Santana were still struggling to get to the ship. They could only move slowly.

Blaine lifted Santana's other arm around his shoulders, taking half her weight.

Sam and Mercedes limped past them, up the cargo ramp, into the ship, to safety.

Blaine was sweating, Santana stumbling along as fast as she could, but any minute more guards would pour into the bay. He swore he could already hear their pounding boots. Santana cursed in Spanish. They neared the ramp with maddening slowness, and Blaine focused on it, determined not to look around, expecting to feel a bullet in his back any minute.

Just a little further.

Their feet hit the ramp. That was when Blaine noticed Kurt wasn't on board.

"Kurt?"

He was over among the tools and spare parts from engineering that had been taken off the ship.

"We need them to get Brittany out!"

At the same moment Sebastian appeared in the far doorway. He didn't even hesitate, grabbing the nearest weapon he could find: a fire extinguisher.

Blaine made a split second decision. He ran to Kurt.

Sebastian pulled the pin and white gas gushed out full force. He was headed straight for Kurt.

Blaine saw the distance close with growing horror. He threw himself forward, leaping into the space between them, as if he could shield Kurt that way. He only saw Sebastian focus on him. Then his vision went white.

The pain hit almost immediately after.

Hot claws sunk into his eyes, a lance of pain shooting through his skull. Someone yelled, but he didn't know who. Everything rang with pain, a blaring alarm that screamed at him to get away. Away from danger.

Blaine stumbled as his foot rolled on something, some junk from the ship. He couldn't see; he couldn't run. Blooms exploded behind his eyes. Everything was white hot.

Metal clanged somewhere and he knew in that moment that he was going to die. Pain was going to be the last thing he ever knew.

Then a warm arm slipped around his back. "Come on, lean on me."

Kurt. Even now he recognized the voice.

"Quickly, before more pirates show up. Hold onto me."

Blaine couldn't do anything but obey. Kurt was solid and steady, and Blaine clung to him. His head throbbed, blinded and helpless.

"Sebastian?" he asked.

"He's down," Kurt said. "This way, come on."

Blaine could only stumble along beside him, letting Kurt lead. Roaring filled his ears, stoppered his thoughts. All he knew was that he didn't want to die, and Kurt was safety.

"Almost there. Just a bit further."

He went on through the darkness and pain like a machine. It was all he could do. One foot in front of the other.

But then the floor changed under his feet and they were climbing.

"Brittany! The cargo doors!" Kurt called. "We're all on board, get us out of here!"

Blaine tripped over the pain, searing his eyes, burning through his head. Something warm and wet ran down his cheeks, like his eyes were melting from his face.

Cold metal caught him. The floor rumbled and vibrated under his palms, an engine gearing up, but he was having trouble untangling it all from the pain. He was shaking more than the floor was. Everything shook: his whole body, the whole universe.

Kurt was beside him again, warm hands on his back and shoulders. "Hold on. We'll get you some help." He raised his voice and bellowed, "Tina!"

*

 

The stars were still and silent as the grave, the way he had always expected them to be. Vast silence spanned the distance between them, such small lights, so unimaginably huge, and among them insignificant life, scattered far and wide.

Behind him lay darkness and pain. Ahead of him, infinity. He was nothing but a small bubble at a crossroad.

The prospect was terrifying and beguiling.

He took one last look behind him and let go.

*

 

When Blaine woke he felt pleasantly fuzzy and slow, and everything around him was still. Only the hum of the engine was audible, a comforting, familiar sound. The pain shot Tina had given him had made him sleep, washing away the pain, the disorientation, cocooning him in peace.

He remembered running, fighting. He remembered pain. He remembered making it on board and Tina washing his face and checking his burning eyes. He remembered Kurt beside him the whole time.

Blaine blinked awake and found himself staring at a semi-dark ceiling. He could see. The pain was still there, pounding away at the edges of his eyes, but it was dull and bearable.

"You're awake."

That was Kurt's voice, and when Blaine rolled his head, he saw Kurt sitting in a chair beside him. His eyes twinged and he had to shut them again, but that glimpse was enough to tell him that they were in Whitney's med bay and all the lights had been turned off.

"Keep your eyes shut if you want. Tina gave you some kind of drops and things, I don't know, but she says you'll be okay. Your eyes will be sensitive for a while longer though."

Blaine sank back against the narrow pallet. "What happened?"

"We're in U-Space," Kurt said, with a happy little lilt to his voice. "Brittany got us out. Just like you told her. We're about…" fabric rustled, "three hours from Fort Thomas Station now."

Blaine frowned. "Sebastian?" he remembered that, but not what happened after that.

"I don't know." Kurt's voice was very soft. "I knocked him out with a conduction rod. He was still on the floor of the cargo bay when we got on board. And then Brittany opened their cargo bay door so we could fold out..."

Blaine sighed. He shouldn't have expected a better outcome, it was amazing that his crew was all still alive, all things considered, but it wasn't the end he would have wanted either. Even now there was an ache in his chest, if only for the boy he had once known, even though that boy had been lost a long time ago.

"You shouldn't have come back for me, Captain," Kurt continued. "We could have waited until we got new tools to get Brittany out, and I was so stressed and panicky I wasn't thinking clearly, and I'm sorry."

"What? No, hey, don't apologize," Blaine said. He gave Kurt a look before he had to close his eyes again. They still felt like they'd been stuffed with hot sand. "Listen, I jumped between you rather than knock Sebastian down, so if you weren't thinking clearly, neither was I."

Kurt sniffed. "Well, thank you for stepping in anyway."

Blaine smiled. "And thank you for dealing with Sebastian."

"Even if he died of vacuum asphyxiation?"

"You couldn't help that."

They fell silent again, and it was a comfortable silence. Blaine lay still and just breathed, his eyes aching distantly, calmed by Kurt's company. It was odd to think that they had only known each other for two days but felt so comfortable together. They were the longest two days of Blaine's life.

"I still owe you dinner," he said into the darkness.

"And I still owe you a shopping trip. Bad things tend to happen when we plan things."

"I don't know," Blaine considered. "This isn't so bad, is it? We all escaped, didn't we?"

"I like your optimism." Kurt was smiling. Blaine could hear it in his voice. He smiled back even though he kept his eyes closed.

"We escaped," Blaine repeated, "relatively intact, we're on our way back to civilization, and we have the co-ordinates to the pirate ship that attacked Fort Thomas Station to hand over to the authorities. I'd say that's not so bad, don't you think?"

Kurt was silent for a moment. "I guess."

Blaine took his heart in hand and struggled onto one elbow. Kurt was staring at him. Blaine had to ignore the grating around the edges of his eyes. He wanted to say this properly. "Listen, Kurt, I don't want to mess up this job, and I don't want to mess up anything between us, but going through the past two days... When you and Santana staged your sabotage, I meant what I said in that moment when I wanted to kiss you. You take my breath away, Kurt, and I would really like to spend more time with you and get to know you better. I know it's probably a stupid thing to do in a new job, but my luck has been going pretty well so far, so I want to try this, you and me."

Kurt's lips were parted in surprise. "I..." was all he said.

"If you do," Blaine added.

Kurt sat up. "Lie down."

"Kurt..."

"Lie down and rest your eyes."

Blaine would have argued, but Kurt placed a hand on his forehead and there was no way he could protest against that touch. When he was lying on his back he shut his eyes again.

"Let's just take each day as it comes and see what happens," Kurt said, fingers stroking back the hair at Blaine's temple, his touch feather light. "I'm not saying no, but we have time. We have all the time in universe, thanks to you getting us out of that pirate ship."

"Not just me," Blaine protested.

"Well, there's no rush," Kurt continued. "I like you too. Just get better first, okay?"

Blaine looked up to see Kurt's worried face. It made his heart flutter to think of Kurt being worried for him. "Okay. Small steps."

Kurt's smile was the last thing Blaine saw before he shut his eyes again, retreating into the soothing darkness.

He thought of all the other people on board, the rest of the crew. At least the past two days had shown him beyond a shadow of a doubt how well they worked together, and how much he could depend on each of them. Just like he'd known he would, he loved being their captain.

He frowned. "Who's running things while I'm down here?"

"You did name Santana your second in command," Kurt reminded him. "She's taken to it like she never wants to give it up. She's even tried ordering Mercedes around."

"Oh god, have I created a monster?"

Kurt laughed. "Yes. But you were right. She deserved it. And Tina's still up there berating her for not taking it easy. She'll settle down once we get home."

Blaine sighed. The word 'home' had never sounded so good. All he wanted now was a hot bath and his own queen size bed.

"Get some sleep," Kurt said. "You have three hours to rest your eyes until we have to deal with the authorities. I'll be here a while longer."

Blaine rested in darkness, quiet now that the pain was bearable, and let Kurt's presence anchor him. "Okay."

*

 

The funeral parlor was spacious and quiet. Three walls were hung with purple velvet curtains, and the fourth looked out onto the stars. An undertaker stood silent as a shadow against the wall, and a long pale box held the second occupant of the room. Only a name on the lid gave away the identity of the person within. The picture plate was empty.

Blaine stepped into the small room, pulling a print out of his pocket. In the photo Sebastian looked so different from the last time Blaine had seen him, lain out in the police morgue. It was a photo from high school – the only one Blaine had had left – showing a younger Sebastian, before everything had gone so wrong. In the photo, Sebastian had color in his face and his smile was bright and charming.

That was the Sebastian Blaine wanted remembered, not the one that was going to be remembered instead. Not the pirate who had found his end in a cold and breathless emptiness. He knew it wasn't going to matter to anyone else, there was no one left to care, that was why Blaine had had to be the one to identify the body, but it didn't seem right that no one at least see Sebastian off today. So Blaine had come alone.

He placed the photo into the coffin's picture plate, but when he stepped back he couldn't think of anything to say. He wasn't going to miss Sebastian, and there were few good memories associated with the man.

In the end Blaine only sighed. "I know we were never really friends, but I hope you've found your peace. I hope you've found whatever stability and contentment you never found when I knew you."

It was all so quiet and his voice sounded loud, but it was more saddening than anything else. Blaine took a moment to find his words again.

"I tried to contact the other guys we knew at school but they've all scattered, so it's just me here now. I'll remember you, anyway." Even if no one else could, or wanted to.

"We all will."

The soft voice startled Blaine. He turned to see Kurt step into the room, followed by Sam and Mercedes, Brittany, Tina, and a man Blaine could only assume was her husband, Mike. Even Santana was there.

"He was someone's kid once too," Sam said with a shrug. If Sam, who had lived through two encounters with Sebastian, could be so understanding and forgive so much, then he was a better person than any of them.

Tina carried a single white rose, which she set on top of the coffin. "It didn't seem right that no one else was going to be here," she said. "Even if he did try to kill us, he meant something to you once."

Blaine didn't want to say 'not that much,' because he didn't want to speak ill of the dead, so he just nodded. It was after all the same reason he was here, but he hadn't expected anyone else to come.

Tina gave him a small smile. "Ready to send him off?"

"Yeah," Blaine said.

They stepped back as the undertaker did something with the controls beside him. As they watched, the coffin retreated into the wall. The next funerary transport would send it into Mors, the star for the dead.

Sebastian disappeared into an unremarkable hole in the wall, and the curtains fell back into place as though he had never been there.

Blaine had done what he could for Sebastian. It was probably more than he deserved. All those people on Fort Thomas had had families too, after all. Not to mention everyone else Sebastian had ever hurt. But Blaine couldn't have lived with himself if he hadn't at least been witness to this last send-off. His compassion had turned him away from Sebastian's path in high school, and he couldn't regret it now.

He took a moment to let it sink in, before he turned to the others again.

"You didn't have to come."

"We know," Mercedes said. "But we wanted to come. Not for him, but for you."

They were all nodding agreement, and Blaine's heart warmed. It struck him now that he hadn't just found a new job and a new crew, but new friends too, and to be embraced by them like this made him feel more accepted than he ever had before. Maybe for the first time in his life he had found a place to belong.

"Thank you." Those words weren't nearly enough to encapsulate what he was feeling, but it was all he could manage.

When they left the funeral parlor, the light was blinding. Blaine hadn't set foot on any of the colonized planets in a while, but between the imitation sunlight and the high ceilings he could almost believe he was outside. Buildings soared all around them and people bustled through the square, everywhere noisy and busy. It still stunned Blaine to look around at central Los Angeles. While New York Station had been all buildings and crowds too, it hadn't been this wide and open, with so much sprawling space.

"It's pretty amazing, isn't it?" Mercedes said beside him. "I'm still waiting for it to feel real." Light reflected in her eyes as she gazed up at the high blue above, and a small smile hovered on her face. Blaine knew she was seeing her dreams unfold all around her. He had seen the same expression on Rachel's face once.

"Thank you for letting me be your pilot," he said. "Even though the probation was such a mess."

"Are you kidding me?" Mercedes turned to him. "You were the one who got us _out_ of that mess. I promise most of my trips are way more boring than that one, but that was like the toughest probation ever. I was hardly going to let you go after that. You, Captain Blaine Anderson, are stuck with us now."

Blaine laughed. "It was a bit more exciting than I would have liked, yes. But you know, we were lucky. It was lucky I knew Sebastian to buy us some time, but it was Kurt and Santana who did all the risky work."

"You were the one who hid Brittany and gave us all hope," Mercedes argued. "You used that lucky encounter to keep us all alive and together. That ain't nothing."

"Well, I still couldn't have done any of that without all of you. We only got away because I had the best crew in the universe behind me."

"You know it," Santana said. Blaine realized she had a nice smile when she chose to share it.

"We were all awesome," Brittany agreed. "Just like in my dream where we all went to high school together and won the show choir competition."

No one even blinked anymore.

The funeral parlor was on a corner, separated from the bulk of the foot traffic by a small garden. People walked past without a second look at the group standing there. It was a nice change from the madness that Lima had become after their pirate encounter. Mercedes had been mobbed by the local press as soon as they arrived back on the station, and her relationship with Sam wasn't kept quiet for much longer after that. Here, on Los Angeles, she was still only a small star surrounded by much brighter lights. Although Blaine had no doubts that would change, he appreciated the breathing space of her relative anonymity.

"So, I got a call from my lawyer," Mercedes said. "All the pirates who got picked up have been charged. Apparently some of them are just falling over themselves to turn on the rest of the crew, trying to get a lighter sentence."

"No honor among thieves," Blaine remembered the way Sebastian had talked about his crew. "Or murderers."

"You can say that again," Mercedes nodded. "I'll let you know when it all goes down, if we need to give any more evidence."

"I'm just glad they got picked up," Tina said. "One less pirate crew to worry about being out there." 

As she spoke, Mike pulled her close against his side. "So, are you all heading home now?" he asked.

Blaine had always assumed artists stayed in hotels on tour. Mercedes stayed on her ship. She said it was easier than tearing Santana away from Brittany for more than a few days, but Blaine understood. Whitney was home to all of them now. It still made him feel warm to realize he was included.

"No, I have a photo shoot I have to get to first," Mercedes said. "Work calls."

"Yes," Tina said, pulling a freescreen from her handbag. "We're on Second Street. Let me just find the map."

"Sorry, Britt, I've got to go," Santana added. "But I'll see you after."

Mike volunteered, "We could go down to LACC Alpha on the way back. Brittany and I have been meaning to look into their dance classes."

Blaine watched them disperse across the square, Sam tagging after Mercedes, the two of them now out in public together. In the other direction Mike and Brittany were already disappearing into the crowd. Only Kurt remained behind.

"What about you, Captain?" Kurt asked. "What have you got planned for the rest of the day?"

"We're not on a ship right now," Blaine reminded him. "I'm not your captain here."

Kurt inclined his head with a shy smile. "Okay, Blaine." The name sounded nice coming from him. "Do you have any plans?"

Blaine tried not to read too much into that, but it was hard with the way Kurt was looking at him. "Nothing in particular. Why?"

Kurt smiled wider, and twisted his fingers together. "I've never been to Los Angeles before and I was going to check out the shopping, if you wanted to accompany me."

Yes, they were definitely flirting. 

"That sounds great." Blaine took a step forward and held out his hand.

Kurt didn't even hesitate to curl their fingers together. His hand was softer than Blaine expected, smooth skin more cared for than any mechanic or engineer should have had. Blaine never wanted to let go again. 

They headed into the Los Angeles crowd together.


End file.
